Deeply did it grieve the good woman to speak the words she had, but she believed it would be best for her nephew to realize the social difference that existed between Viola and himself, that he might be spared the humiliation and embarrassment in the future. Though they allowed their daughter to attend the Rivertown High School, the Darrows were proud and arrogant people and always did all in their power to prevent the girl from mingling with her schoolmates.
But though Mrs. Watson strove to offset the sting of her statement, the rest of the dinner was eaten in comparative silence, and Harry set out for school with a heavy heart.
Not far had he proceeded up the main street, however, before he caught sight of a form he recognized as that of the bully who had been the ringleader in the trick which had so nearly ended in a tragedy.
“Hope he won’t come up and try to smooth things over,” said Harry to himself. But the next moment, his anxiety on this score was allayed.
Pud was busy making snowballs and storing them under his arm.
“Wonder if he’s going to vent his disappointment on me,” mused Harry, taking his hands from his pockets that he might be ready to return the bombardment, should the bully open on him.
Yet when he saw the bully’s victim, Harry’s anger at the fellow was greater than ever.
As the new student passed a cross street, he saw Pud jump behind a tree and then, peering from one side, hurl one of the half dozen snowballs he had under his arm.
Turning to see at whom they were aimed, Harry was amazed to behold a bent and aged man, hobbling along the sidewalk with the aid of a cane.
The snowball knocked the cane from the man’s hand and as it fell, the aged cripple tottered.