CHAPTER VIII
Richard Pinckney, like most people, had the defects of his qualities, but he was different from others in this: his temper was quick and blazing when roused, yet on rare occasions it could hold its heat and smoulder, and keep alive indefinitely.
When in this condition he shewed nothing of his feelings except towards the person against whom he was in wrath.
Towards them he exhibited the two main characteristics of the North Pole—Distance and Ice.
Phyl felt the frost almost immediately. He talked to her just the same as of old but his pleasantness and laughter were gone and he never sought her eye. She knew at once that it was the business with Silas that had caused this change, and she would have been entirely miserable but for the knowledge of two great facts: she was innocent of any disloyalty to him, he had broken off his engagement to Frances Rhett. Instinct told her that he cared for her, Miss Pinckney had told her the same thing.
Yet day after day passed without bringing the slightest change in Richard Pinckney.
That gentleman after many debates with himself had arrived at the determination against will, against reason, against Love, and against nature to have nothing more to do with Phyl.
Old Pepper Pinckney, that volcano of the past had suffered a fancied insult from his wife; no one knew of it, no one suspected it till on his death his will disclosed it by the fact that he had left the lady—one dollar. The will being unwitnessed—that was the sort of man he was—did not hold; all the same, it held an unsuspected part of his character up for public inspection.