A slight contraction of the muscles changed the expression of Levis's face. Meekness—that was one of the weapons of Abraham Milhausen's daughter!
He felt an almost irresistible desire to pour out upon his boy all the heretical beliefs, all the unorthodox speculations which had for years filled his hours of meditation, to fortify him with skepticism against the foolish hopes built up by the Christian religion. He believed he had, like the Stoics, the possession of his own soul. Once he had expounded his convictions to the boy's mother and she had withdrawn herself physically and mentally until she died. But the world would take care of Matthew!
"You don't suppose that all wisdom is incarnate in Grandfather, do you, Matthew?"
"He's only a human being," answered Matthew, with the same trying neatness of response. "But even children can understand all that is necessary to be saved."
Levis rose.
"Well, my boy, when things begin to seem puzzling to you, your father may be able to help."
Matthew rose also. He was tired and he had many things to think of. He looked at his father with strong disapproval; he thought of Grandfather's saintliness and the pretty face of Millie König. His father lit a cigarette; it was as alienating an act as could have been committed.
"I think Ellen should be punished for disturbing the meeting," said he. "It shamed me for her."
"I'll attend to Ellen," promised Levis with a satisfying grimness.
But, having reached the doorway, Matthew suffered misgivings.