Jim's
father sent an urgent message to Sally to come to him. When she came,
he told her she was mad, and asked her why she had thrown her life away.
"Why have you done it?" he said. "You--you knew all about him; you
might have married the best man in the country. You could rule a
kingdom; you have beauty and power, and make people do what you want:
and you've got a sot."
"He is your son," she answered quietly.
She looked so beautiful and so fine as she stood there, fearless and
challenging before him, that he was moved. But he would not show it.
"He was my son--when he was a man," he retorted grimly.
"He is the son of the woman you once loved," she answered.
The old man turned his head away.
"What would she have said to what you did to Jim?" He drew himself
around sharply. Her dagger had gone home, but he would not let her know
it.
"Leave her out of the question--she was a saint," he said roughly.
"She cannot be left out; nor can you. He got his temperament naturally;
he inherited his weakness from your grandfather, from her father.
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