He tossed the card aside. His wife could see upon his face the unmistakable sign that the accumulation of years of disappointment was no longer to be contained in silence.
“I’ve been a miserable fizzle! Unknown and forgotten because I deserve it!”
Edith looked straight at him. “That is not true,” she said softly.
“Perhaps it’s a bad dream! It’s been my fault. No wonder I’m forgotten! Everybody flocks around a victor, but who cares where the man is who failed to do big things? Once he marched in the front line promising a great deal, and now he’s got to watch the procession from the sidewalk. It would be better, if a man can’t make himself felt and has got to walk around unknown—to keep his promise and—”
“Don’t, father.”
He looked up into his daughter’s face, and seeing the trembling of her upper lip, drew a long breath and squared his shoulders.
“Well, perhaps we all have our compensations.”
“You are going to the class dinner, aren’t you?”
“No, I think I won’t go this time. Perhaps next year—”
“Oh, yes, for me! I’ll get your evening clothes. They’re put away.”