Then he looked back into the room. Dimly on his table he saw a pile of books, his hateful books. He was tempted to destroy them, but even stubborn Matthew had still a measure of common sense. He would have to obey his father and go away, but he would come back. He would have another month at home, then he would have to be at the University before the opening to take examinations. He had no expectation of failure and he was above deliberate effort to fail. He was determined to put himself thoroughly to whatever test the city might offer, a Daniel descending willingly into the fiery furnace.
From summer day to summer day, Ellen studied. It was with difficulty that Levis restrained himself from giving her longer lessons. When the cooler weather came, then she should have full hours. Last year's studies were reviewed and the equivalent of a half-year under Amos accomplished before September. Then, when Matthew, sullen-eyed and silent, had been taken to Philadelphia by his father, Ellen began to work in earnest.
She had by this time acquired many ideas that were new. The gods of her little girlhood, Grandfather and Amos, had been entirely displaced and there was but one creature worthy of worship. It was not Levis's positive statements, delivered as though there were no disputing them, which won Ellen; it was his hands on her shoulders and the throb of his beating heart; it was the way he had looked at Matthew when Matthew had refused to come and sit with them. Two months ago he had been like most fathers, a tall, distant, directing human being; now he was a creature not only to be obeyed, but to be made much of, even to be protected and defended. He would have been touched and amused to know what Ellen thought of him.
He left Matthew in a small room at the University and came away, still believing that he would "come out right," that is, he would see how foolish he had been. He would make friends, he would learn to be like other lads, he would forget the bigotry and narrowness to which he had committed himself. Matthew was his own son, and he, Heaven knows, had never been bigoted or narrow.
After visiting the theater and watching a few skillful operations, he went home. He might have seen, had he chosen to cross the street to the Ophthalmic Hospital, Stephen Lanfair, who was there one day in the week, but he did not choose. He still loved him, but he did not care to search him out. He was astonished to find that the confusion of the city wearied and, still worse, worried him.
He found Ellen waiting for him in the doorway and decided as he crossed the porch that she was going to be a pretty girl. Still there was no trace of her mother about her, and little of him—perhaps from his own unknown mother she had inherited her thick curls and her black eyes.
"I have learned what you gave me to learn," she boasted. "Does Matthew like Philadelphia?"
"I think he will."
"You are to go to Umbesheidens' and to Heilmans' right away."
"Has anything important happened?"