Thus repressed, Aunt Kate delivered a moral lesson to Charles Augustus in a voice heard all over the room. “It is easier to receive thanks for doing nice things, Charles, than to have to beg forgiveness for doing mean ones.”
Fortunately Obadiah, diligently engaged at that moment in erasing the past, was deaf to his sister’s remarks. He told Mrs. Curtis, “I’ll re-open the Brenton mill as soon as I can have it overhauled. I can use it on some contracts I have. The profits shall be yours. When you can repay the amount of the notes from them, I’ll transfer the mill back to you. If you wish, I’ll buy it from you or rent it until your son is capable of assuming charge of it.”
He faced Joe and said, “I understand that you’ll graduate from college this June. There’ll be a position waiting for you in my mill.”
“In South Ridgefield?” Virginia inquired anxiously.
Obadiah gave his daughter a keen glance and then stared at Joe appraisingly before he answered. “Yes, in South Ridgefield, until his mother wants him to take charge of her own business. By that time, if he has brains and follows my plans for him, he should be the finest young mill executive in this part of the country.”
The youthful Charles Augustus came under the mill owner’s eye. “I’ll see that every expense connected with the operation upon this young man is paid. We don’t want outsiders in on that.”
He perceived Helen. “Well, well, how you have grown,” he declared in surprise. “You want to be a teacher. I’ll send you to college.”
“Goodness knows, Obadiah,” protested Aunt Kate, “a body would think it was Christmas.” She viewed him doubtfully. “I am afraid that you were always inclined to be a little extravagant.”
From the moment that his daughter embraced him, happiness had filled the soul of the mill owner. The difficulties of the past few days were forgotten. He beamed at his sister, generosity oozing from every pore. “Your house needs painting, Kate. I’ll have it done. I’ll sell that plug of a horse you have and buy you one that is broken or get you an automobile.”
“Stop right there, Obadiah,” she commanded. “I have managed my affairs for years without your help. When you talk about selling a horse like Archimedes, I doubt your judgment. Look there!” She pointed proudly through the window. “Who’d care to own a finer horse than that?”