“No; I can’t ever scold anybody. My hands are always tied. I’m old and foolish. Talk about the past coming back to trouble us! You have no idea what it means at my age; it’s the past, the past, the past! until to-day is eternally smothered by it.”
He cast himself into his chair; and she laughed at him—a laugh of relief. His anger had usually amused her by its lack of reason; it gave her now a momentary respite from her own troubles.
“I’ve never got anything in the world that I wanted. Here I hoped that you and Morris might hit it off—”
“Please don’t,—”
“But you wouldn’t have it; you’ve treated him most shabbily.”
“I shouldn’t think he would have told you anything about it,” she said with dignity.
“Of course he didn’t tell me anything about it! Don’t you think I know things without being told?”
“I don’t envy you the faculty,” she said, with a sigh. “I’m not going to look for trouble. It all comes my way anyhow.”
Her tone of despair touched his humor and he laughed and filled his pipe again; then the bell rang and he went to open the door for Morris.
“Morris,” he began at once, “we can omit the preliminaries this morning. Mr. Dameron’s trusteeship has expired. His daughter is entitled to the property left her by her mother, or its equivalent. There has been a sale of property that is not quite regular, and—”