There was an exclamation from the ladies, and a sound as if one caught her breath.
Mr. Lewis stared at the speaker, turned very red, then started up, and went out of the room, banging the door behind him. A minute later, he flung open the door of Mr. Southard's study, and marched in without the least ceremony. "What is the meaning of this nonsense of Mr. Granger's volunteering?" he demanded, stammering with anger.
Mr. Southard had been sitting with a Bible open before him, and his face bowed forward and resting on it. He rose with cold stateliness at this abrupt invasion. "Will you sit, sir?" he said, pointing to a chair.
"No, sir, I will not!" was the answer. "I want you to go down and put a stop to his making a fool of himself. I won't say a word to him; I haven't patience to."
"If Mr. Granger thinks it his duty to go, I shall not attempt to dissuade him," said the minister calmly, reseating himself. "He is his own master, and I am in no way responsible for his action in the matter."
"When a man plants an acorn, we hold him responsible for the oak," was the retort. "You have indirectly done all you could to make him ashamed of staying at home, and to make him believe that the more pieces a man gets cut into the more of a man he is. If you don't prevent his going, I shall hold you responsible for whatever may happen."
For a moment the minister's self-control deserted him, and a just perceptible curl touched his lip with scorn. "Can you see no nobler destiny for a man," he asked, "than to eat three meals a day, make money, and keep a whole skin?"
Mr. Lewis's face had been red: now his very hands blushed with anger. He opened the door to leave the room, and turned on the threshold. "Yes, sir, I can!" he replied with emphasis. "But it is not in staying at home and sending another man out to die, especially when that man may be in your way!"
Banging the door behind him, Mr. Lewis ran against his niece who was just coming up-stairs. She looked terrified. She had overheard her uncle's parting speech.