“I’ll go myself to see her,” said Mrs. Barriscale. “I think I can make it all right with her.”
But the ironmaster, ignoring his wife’s offer, turned peremptorily to Ben.
“You do as I tell you,” he commanded. “You go to McCormack’s house, and to whomever meets you there you express your regret for the occurrence, and offer your services. Go after school to-day.”
That settled it. Mr. Barriscale’s wish in his family circle was law. No one ever pretended to dispute him, least of all his son. He did not intend to be domineering, but he could not brook opposition to his will or his plans, and few people, either within or without his home, had sufficient temerity to oppose him.
At four o’clock that afternoon Ben went to Captain McCormack’s house on his unpleasant errand. But it was not Hal’s mother who came to the door, nor yet Hal himself, nor a maid. It was Hal’s aunt, Miss Sarah Halpert. She knew Ben, invited him in, and followed him into the little reception room.
“You can’t see Hal,” she said, “if that’s what you came for. He isn’t fit to be seen. And you can’t see his mother for she’d be sure to make a mess of it. But you can see me and say anything you like. Now go ahead.”
“Well,” Ben replied, “there isn’t much to say, except that I’m sorry about Hal. I didn’t intend to hurt him; not that much anyway. And if there’s anything I can do to help out, why, I’d like to.”
“Who told you to say that?” she inquired abruptly.
“My father. He said I’d better call and express my regrets and offer my services.”
“I thought as much. You wouldn’t have come on your own motion, would you? Or would you?”