Lawrence Dunbar turned suddenly on his heel and left the house.
"That was too harsh, father," said Mrs. Dunbar to her husband, as the tears fell slowly over her time-marked face.
"I don't know. Such language from a child stings worse than the fang of a serpent. I could not bear it."
"He will hardly come home again."
"Let him stay away then. His visits have never been frequent nor pleasant. He has come in mere shame at his neglect whenever he has come, and rarely went away without insulting us in word or manner. Our hope was that he might rise in the world, and we denied ourselves and wronged our daughters, that he might have the fullest opportunity; and thus he repays us."
Old Mr. Dunbar did not see that the fruit of his son's mature life was but a legitimate growth from the seeds he had at first planted in his mind. He had been taught to look at eminence in the world as an end, and not as the means to a higher end—usefulness to mankind. The son was to rise; but he was not taught that discrimination as to the means of rising must be used. The end was the main thing, and whatever means were considered favorable to its attainment, were adopted without a moment's hesitation. But he did think of Mary Lee, and how different it must have been if she had become the wife of his son.
The gay wedding took place without the presence of a single member of Dunbar's family. The interview with his parents had disturbed the lawyer a good deal, but, upon the whole, he was not sorry that it had occurred. If the old people were going to hold on to his sisters and their husbands, a separation would have to take place at any rate, and the earlier, he felt, the better.
Among others present at the wedding was Mr. Harrison, who had been able, just three days before, to throw Malcolm's case out of court by means of the defect which Dunbar had purposely left in his bill. The latter observed, with some surprise, that Harrison was on the most intimate and even familiar terms with his bride. On inquiry, he was informed that Harrison was an old and intimate friend of his bride's father, and her legal guardian. This surprised him more, and did not make him feel altogether comfortable. On the very day before, he had received thirty thousand dollars from Harrison, for playing false to his client, and had given the old man a receipt, the tenor of which he thought peculiar, but which Harrison insisted upon having before paying the money. It was as follows:—
"Received of Malcolm Harrison the sum of thirty thousand dollars in full of all demands, past, present, and to come, it being understood that the parties know each other too well ever to venture upon any new transactions.
"LAWRENCE DUNBAR."
Dunbar thought, that in case any new transactions should ever occur, he could take good care to get the pay before any service was rendered. The receipt was made less objectionable than one expressing the true nature of the transaction would have been.