"Good-bye, dad," and Hugh held out his hand. The father did not seem to notice it. He stood perfectly still, with the same hard look on his face. Hugh passed out of the room, leaving me alone with the angry man.
"Good-night, sir," I said. "I am sorry, and some day you will be."
He hesitated a second, as if in doubt whether to speak, then he looked at me more kindly.
"Mr. Erskine," he said, "doubtless you do not approve of my actions, but my convictions are not of yesterday."
"I hope, when you have considered, you will act differently," was my reply. "Your son may have all the foolishness of a boy, but he is a lad of whom any father ought to be proud."
Mr. Lethbridge did not speak a word for some seconds, then he said, half apologetically:
"I am afraid, Mr. Erskine, that I have been very rude to you. I remember that you are a guest in my house, and I am afraid that, in my disappointment, I have broken the laws of hospitality. I shall always be pleased to see you here, when you care to call."
"Thank you," I replied, "but I am afraid I cannot accept the hospitality which you offer. The man who closes his door to such a son as yours, and for such a reason, forfeits all right to respect. I am told you claim to be a religious man, but I will not speak of that." And I, too, passed out of the room.
I had scarcely closed the door behind me when I saw Isabella Lethbridge standing in the hall.
"Hugh has gone in to see mother," she said. "Please tell me what has happened."