Shepherd shrank further into himself. It was he who was not clever! He hoped to be dismissed like a presumptuous schoolboy caught in an attempt to evade the rules. Franklin Mills, putting aside the crystal weight, had taken up the ivory paper knife and was drawing it slowly through his shapely, well-kept hands.
“I suppose it’s none of my business, Shep, but just why did you sell that stock? It was absolutely safe; and I thought that as it came to you from your mother, and her father had been one of the original incorporators, you would have some sentiment about keeping it. You’re not embarrassed in any way, are you? If you’re not able to live within your income you ought to come to me about it. You can hardly say that I haven’t always stood ready to help when you ran short.”
“Well, no, Father; it wasn’t that. The fact is—well, to tell the truth——”
Mills was always annoyed by Shepherd’s stammering. He considered it a sign of weakness in his son; something akin to a physical blemish. Shepherd frowned and with a jerk of the head began again determinedly, speaking slowly.
“I wanted to build that clubhouse for the factory people. I felt that they deserved it. You refused to help; I couldn’t make you understand how I felt about it. I meant to build it myself—pay for it with my own money. So I sold my Rogers stock. I thought after I got the thing started you wouldn’t object. You see——”
Shepherd’s eyes had met his father’s gaze, bent upon him coldly, and he ceased abruptly.
“Oh, that’s why you sold! My dear boy, I’m surprised and not a little grieved that you should think of doing a thing like that. It’s not—not quite——”
“Not quite straight!” Shepherd flung the words at him, a gleam of defiance in his eyes. “Well, all right! We’ll say it wasn’t square. But I did it! And you’ve beaten me. You’ve shown me I’m a fool. I suppose that’s what I am. I don’t see things as you do; I wanted to help those people—give them a little cheer—brighten their lives—make them more contented! But you couldn’t see that! You don’t care for what I think; you treat me as though I were a stupid child. I’m only a figurehead at the plant. When you ask me questions about the business you do it just to check me up—you’ve already got the answers from Fields. Oh, I know it! I know what a failure I am!”
He had never before spoken so to his father. Amazed that he had gotten through with it, he was horror struck. He sank back in his chair, waiting for the sharp reprimand, the violent retort he had invited. It would have been a relief if his father had broken out in a violent tirade. But Mills had never been more provokingly calm.
“I’m sorry, Shep, that you have this bitterness in your heart.” Mills’s tone was that of a man who has heard forbearingly an unjust accusation and proceeds patiently to justify himself. “I wouldn’t have you think I don’t appreciate your feeling about labor; that’s fine. But I thought you accepted my reasons for refusing. I’ve studied these things for years. I believe in dealing justly with labor, but we’ve got to be careful about mixing business and philanthropy. If you’ll just think it over you’ll see that for yourself. We’ve got to be sensible. I’m old-fashioned, I suppose, in my way of thinking, but——”