Hardie senior turned on him with a
gravity and dignity no man could wear more naturally. "Alfred, have I
been an unkind father to you all these years?"
"Oh no, father, no; I have said nothing that can be so construed. And
that is the mystery to me; you are acting quite out of character."
"Have I been one of those interfering, pragmatical fathers who cannot let
their children enjoy themselves their own way?"
"No, sir; you have never interfered, except to pay for anything I
wanted."
"Then make the one return in your power, young man: have a little faith
in such a father, and believe that he does not interfere now but for your
good, and under a stern necessity; and that when he does interfere for
once, and say, 'This thing shall not be,' it shall not be--by Heaven!"
Alfred was overpowered by the weight and solemnity of this. Sorrow,
vexation, and despondency all rushed into his heart together, and
unmanned him for a moment; he buried his face in his hands, and something
very like a sob burst from his young heart. At this Hardie senior took up
the newspaper with imperturbable coldness, and wore a slight curl of the
lip.
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