“I do not doubt that, young man,” responded Mr. Temple, while he gazed as if fascinated into Clifford’s clear, earnest eyes; “but that fact in nowise lightens my sense of personal obligation. Let me do something for you, my young friend. I have wealth and influence—let me give you something out of my abundance—at least enough to lift you out of your present position and start you handsomely in life.”
Clifford flushed from various emotions. He could well understand the man’s feelings. He knew it was only natural he should wish to make some return, or tangible expression of gratitude for the rescue of his little daughter from a horrible fate; he knew he would have felt the same had the situation been reversed; but an unaccountable repugnance against accepting pecuniary aid from this man for having saved the life of his child and Philip Wentworth’s sister took possession of him. Besides this, the feeling of affection which had been aroused in his heart for the little one made him shrink sensitively from anything of the kind.
“Thank you,” he said again, “but I could not accept money for what I have done.”
He spoke gently and courteously, but with a note of firmness in his tones that warned his companion it would be useless to press the matter further.
A cloud of disappointment settled over Mr. Temple’s countenance, and a sense of irritation, in view of being denied the privilege of canceling a heavy obligation, made him suddenly compress his lips and avert his eyes. He was all the more galled because of the inequality of their positions.
Had Clifford been his equal in wealth and station he could have waived the matter gracefully; he would have considered it an insult to offer money to a man on the same plane of life with himself for such a deed, but, as it was, he now felt a twofold obligation, and chafed against it.
“I am afraid you are unduly proud, young man,” he observed, after a moment of awkward silence. “I am told that you are an employee in this hotel, and the natural inference would be that you have your own way to make in the world. As a rule, most young men would not be averse to a little help upward—to a good start in some lucrative business, or a plump little nest-egg for the future.”
Again Clifford flushed and he straightened himself a trifle.
“No, sir, I am not proud—at least, not more so than is right, I think,” he gravely responded. “What I did for Miss Minnie I would have done just as readily for the poorest child in the village, and so, you perceive, I could not accept a pecuniary reward from you and preserve my self-respect. It is true that I am poor; that I am an employee in this hotel for the summer for the purpose of earning money to help me through college——”
“College!” interposed Mr. Temple, in surprise.