“‘There’s a lion in the way, says the slothful man: I shall be slain,’” quoted the old man, from the Book which he had accepted as an all-sufficient guide to faith and practice.
“I’ve made a fool of myself,” said Phil, sullenly, “and I want to go home and take my punishment. I want to go by the first train I can get. I’ve a long list of things I’ve promised to buy for different people, but I can’t endure New York another day.”
The old man studied his son’s face keenly for a while, as they resumed their walk; then he said, gently,--
“Perhaps it’s best that way. Go ahead. Give me your list, an’ I’ll ’tend to it. I’ll take a day or two in New York myself: it’s a long time since I had one. Give us the list; and get out.”
Phil fumbled in his pockets for the memoranda that he had neglected so long. Then a new fear came to him, and he said,--
“Father, you know about everything, and can do almost anything you attempt, but don’t go to trying to mend this wretched affair of mine: If I----”
“What?” interrupted the old man. “Meddle in a love-scrape? Have I got to be this old to be suspected by my son of bein’ an old fool? No, sir; I never did any love-makin’ except for myself, an’ I’m not goin’ to begin now. You go home an’ brace up; I reckon you need a mouthful of country air to set your head right.”
Philip Hayn accounted it a special mercy of Providence that the impulse to leave New York had been so timed that the train which he caught would land him at Haynton Station after dark. He did not feel like seeing old acquaintances that day; he felt that his face was being a persistent, detestable tell-tale, and that he could not train and command it while so busy with his thoughts. If seen at all, he intended to offer as few suggestions for remark as possible: so, before leaving his hotel, he divested himself of every visible trace of city raiment, and clothed himself in the Sunday suit which Haynton had seen often enough to pass without remark. He could not restore his shorn superfluity of hair, but he again put on the hat which for a year had been his best at home. He even went so far as to leave for his father a new trunk which he had purchased, putting his own personal property into the antique carpet-bag--real carpet--which the old farmer had brought down. Lastly, that he might not appear in the least like a city youth, he carried with him two religious weeklies which some society for the reformation of hotel-boarders had caused to be placed in his box in the hotel-office, and he read them quite faithfully on the train.