“I saw him before that insult to ask if he would apologize.”
“Did you try to make him apologize?” asked Mrs. Thornton, coldly.
“Yes. But he looked at me with such an air that I had to apologize myself for hinting at such a thing. He was as inflexible as his father.”
“How else could he have been?”
“Well, each might have yielded a little. It does not do to be so inflexible if one would succeed in life.”
“No,” said Mrs. Thornton. “Success must be gained by flexibility. The martyrs were all inflexible, and they were all unsuccessful.”
Thornton looked at his wife hastily. Despard’s hand trembled, and his face grew paler still with a more livid pallor.
“Did you try to do any thing for the ruined son?”
“How could I, after that insult?”
“Could you not have got him a government office, or purchased a commission for him in the army?”