RoBards hated himself for hating Chalender for being so honorable a man; but he could not oust from his heart the bitter thought that Chalender was rendering him one more insult.
Chalender had saved his life, dishonored his wife, married his daughter, surpassed him in every way as a captor of the hearts of women and men, as a breaker of the laws of God and man, and as a public servant and a patriot. And RoBards was bound and gagged and could not protest or denounce except in his own dark heart.
There was scant salve for his hurts in the low groan of wrath from Patty as she flung the paper to the floor:
“If he dares come to our house! if he dares!”
But Chalender with that almost infallible intuition of his for escaping bad quarters-of-an-hour, sent merely a gay little note:
“Dear Papa and Mamma-in-law:
“It grieves me deeply to be unable to call and pay you both my filial devoirs, but I am to be shipped South at once for cannon-fodder.
“Our dear Immy sent you all sorts of loving messages, which I beg you to imagine. She is well and beautiful and would be the belle of San Francisco if she were not so devoted a mother to the three perfect grandchildren, whom you have never seen.
“‘When this cruel war is over,’ as the song goes, I shall hope to come tramp-tramp-tramping to your doorstep. Until then and always be assured, dear Patty and David (if I may be so familiar) that I am
The most devoted of
“Sons-in-law.”