"I thank you, William," said the Judge, forgetting the napkin. This was received by the former owner of Montana as proof that the Judge's ill-nature had been cured; and, bowing, he pulled the napkin from about his jowl and spread it upon his knees. And then arose a spirited discussion between the political Warwick and Howard, the former snatching a cue from his brother, affirming that the influence of France had always been bad, the latter maintaining that France had civilized and cultivated the modern world. Florence pulled at Howard's coat sleeve; and the Judge, observing her, and irritated that she was moved to employ restraint, threw off all attempt at an exercise of his patience. "Let him proceed!" he roared, and everyone looked at him in surprise. "Let him proceed to the end of his disgraceful advocacy of corruption. But I will not stay to hear it." And, getting up, he bowed himself out.
"Howard," said Mrs. Elbridge, "you ought not to talk about things that irritate your father. He is not well."
"You are wrong, Howard, to oppose him," Florence spoke up.
"I suppose I am," the young man admitted, "but he has always taught me to form an opinion of my own and to hold it when once well formed, and until recently he seemed pleased at what he termed my individuality and independence. But now I can't do or say a thing to please him. I'm no child, and not a fool, I hope; then, why should I be treated as if I had no sense at all? What have I done that he should turn against me? He treats everyone else with consideration and respect. He even has toleration of Uncle William's dates," he added, mischievously thrusting at the old fellow for the recent stand he had taken, knowing that, with him, it was the policy of the moment rather than the conviction of the hour.
"What!" exclaimed William, with a bat of eye and a swell of jaw. "Turned loose on me, have you? Well, I want to tell you, sir, that I won't stand it. I am aware that my forbearance heretofore may have misled you with regard to the extent of my endurance, but I want to say that you have made a mistake. I am treated with consideration and respect everywhere except in this household, and I won't stand it, that's all."
"Thank you," Howard replied.
"Thank me! Thank me for what?"
"You said, 'that's all,' and I thank you for it."
Mrs. Elbridge interposed with a mild and smiling admonition. She shook her finger at Howard. "Let him go ahead, Rachel," the old fellow spoke up. "Let him go ahead as far as his strength will permit him. He's—he's set himself against us, and as he runs riot in the privilege of the spoiled heir, why, I guess we'll have to stand it—as long as we can. Of course, there'll come a time when all bodily and moral strength will fail us, but until then let him go ahead. Yes, has set himself against us."
"Us, did you say, Uncle Billy? You are evidently one of the us. Who's the other?" Howard asked, immensely tickled, for the warmth of the family joke was most genial to him.