He put down the papers, which he had been about to read.
“By the way, Justin, I’ve been thinking a good deal about you and Lucy. You and she are still in the notion of marrying, I suppose?”
His voice was kindly now, and it softened still more as he beheld the hurt expression on his son’s flushed face.
“Forget what I said just now, and I’ll try to be more considerate. This has been a terrible thing for me; how terrible I don’t think you can ever realize. I had made Ben my idol. It was foolish, of course, but in this world men do foolish things; I have done my full share of them. So if there is anything to be forgiven by any one I am the one to do the forgiving.”
His hands shook again on the papers and tears came into the sunken eyes.
“I have forgiven Ben everything. I think he was not so much to blame after all. I was wild, too, in my youth; and, forgetting that, I did not bring him up right. If he had lived; that is, if——” The tears overflowed on his cheeks, and he stopped. “But we won’t talk about that. I wish I could forget it.”
He folded the papers and spread them out again, while he sought to gain control of his voice.
“If you and Lucy are still in the notion of getting married, you have my full consent to do so. You are my son, and I shall treat you as a son should be treated; and she is my adopted daughter. So, whatever I have is yours and hers, when I am gone.”
“You will get well!” said Justin, earnestly and with feeling.
“Yes, I believe so!” There was a touch of the old fire now. “I think I shall get well. I have improved lately. My head doesn’t trouble me so much, for one thing. It has cleared so that I was able to do a good deal of writing yesterday. I shall get well, but I know I shall never be the same; I shall never be able to take the interest in business matters that I did. I don’t seem to care what goes on in the valley and on the ranch now. Even the loss of those cattle didn’t touch me. Once I should have felt it, just as Fogg did.”