"And you have come to look me up? Floyd, that is kind."
Something in his cool, pleasant tones touched me powerfully. "I knew nothing about you," I blurted out. "Why, Jack, at this minute I'm not sure if you are married or not."
"I am not married," he said softly. He was not used to reply so quickly, and I waited for him to speak before I questioned him further. "I am well," he said presently, "and mother is in her usual health. Have you heard about my father?"
"Nothing. Both Harry and I have famished for news of you."
I could see a little trouble in his face: he would have preferred that somebody else should have broken his news to me. But he sighed, and went on without flinching. "My father had a paralytic stroke in December," he explained in his deliberate, gentle voice. "When once our eyes were opened we could easily comprehend that for months his mind had been failing. When the bad news came the accumulation of trouble was too much for him. We thought at first nothing could save him, but he rallied physically. His mind has quite gone, however," Jack added, his voice trembling: "his brain has softened."
I stared at him speechlessly: I knew by instinct that I had not heard the worst.
"The moment I saw you," pursued Jack, "my first thought was, 'I hope he knows the whole story.' You heard nothing of our failure?"
"Not a word."
"The firm of Holt & Strong suspended payment last December," said he with a deep flush rising to his temples. "There were two companies, you know: I was only in Holt & Co. Strong was in Europe. My poor father's weakness did not display itself openly, but took the form of mad secret speculations. It is a long story, Floyd. There were no bounds to his schemes, in which he involved not only himself, but others. He was president of the savings bank too, you may remember. The troubles began with the failure of a house in New York to which we owed something. He was pressed: there was a whisper of something wrong, and of course there came a run on the bank. I was not here. My father sent for me: when I came I found a riotous mob outside the closed doors, and he lay insensible in the bank parlor. He never recovered any real consciousness, and for weeks we worked in the dark. There was much to bear. I could have endured every loss without a murmur, had it not been for the cruelty of some of his smallest creditors."
He stopped for a few minutes, but when I would have spoken he motioned me to be silent, and presently went on: "There are men to-day who pretend to believe that my father's mental state is as perfect as ever—that he is merely shielding himself from punishment by shamming imbecility. Ah, well! let me continue. Just at this juncture one of our buildings was destroyed by fire. The insurance policy had lapsed, and he had failed to renew it. The factory was packed with goods ready for shipment. The loss to Holt & Strong was a quarter of a million of dollars." He stopped again, and I saw him moisten his dry lips. "The chief creditors," he resumed, "were honorable men. By the first of March we had agreed upon terms of adjustment. My mother gave up all she had. My sisters are angry with me that I allowed her to strip the house of everything that had possessed a moneyed value, and think it shameful that I despoiled her of her jewels. But such things did not count with my mother and me. I kept the Duchess—nothing else." He smiled sombrely as he pulled out his watch. It was the little silver one he had used when we played marbles together. "We paid fifty cents on the dollar," he said presently, "and by and by shall manage something of a dividend at the bank. It will give me plenty to do for years yet," he added with a peculiar smile.