Vance went gloomily to the room of Terry and called him out. The boy was pale, but perfectly1 calm, and he looked older, much older.
"There was a great deal of talk," said Vance—he must make doubly sure of Terence now. "And they even started a little lynching party. But we stopped all that. Gainor made a very nice little speech about you. And now Elizabeth is waiting for you in the library."
Terry bit his lip.
"And she?" he asked anxiously.
"There's nothing to worry about," Vance assured him.
"She'll probably read you a curtain lecture. But at heart she's proud of you because of the way Gainor talked. You can't do anything wrong in my sister's eyes."
Terry breathed a great sigh of relief.
"But I'm not ashamed of what I've done. I'm really not, Uncle Vance. I'm afraid that I'd do it over again, under the same circumstances."
"Of course you would. Of course you would, my boy. But you don't have to blurt2 that out to Elizabeth, do you? Let her think it was the overwhelming passion of the moment; something like that. A woman likes to be appealed to, not defied. Particularly Elizabeth. Take my advice. She'll open her arms to you after she's been stern as the devil for a moment."
The boy caught his hand and wrung3 it.
"By the Lord, Uncle Vance," he said, "I certainly appreciate this!"
"Tush, Terry, tush!" said Vance. "You'll find that I'm with you and behind you in more ways than you'd ever guess."
He received a grateful glance as they went down the broad stairs together. At the door to the library Vance turned away, but Elizabeth called to him and asked him in. He entered behind Terence Hollis, and found Elizabeth sitting in her father's big chair under the window, looking extremely fragile and very erect4 and proud. Across her lap was a legal-looking document.
Vance knew instantly that it was the will she had made up in favor of
Terence. He had been preparing himself for the worst, but at this his
heart sank. He lowered himself into a chair. Terence had gone straight to
Elizabeth.
"I know I've done a thing that will cut you deeply, Aunt Elizabeth," he said. "I'm not going to ask you to see any justice on my side. I only want to ask you to forgive me, because—"
Elizabeth was staring straight at and through her protege.
"Are you done, Terence?"
This time Vance was shocked into wide-eyed attention. The voice of
Elizabeth was hard as iron. It brought a corresponding stiffening5 of
Terence.
"I'm done," he said, with a certain ring to his voice that Vance was glad to hear.
It brought a flush into the pale cheeks of Elizabeth.
"It is easy to see that you're proud of what you have done, Terence."
"Yes," he answered with sudden defiance6, "I am proud. It's the best thing
I've ever done. I regret only one part of it."
"And that?"
"That my bullet didn't kill him!"
Elizabeth looked down and tapped the folded paper against her fingertips. Whether it was mere7 thoughtfulness or a desire to veil a profound emotion from Terence, her brother could not tell. But he knew that something of importance was in the air. He scented8 it as clearly as the smoke of a forest fire.
"I thought," she said in her new and icy manner, "that that would be your one regret."
She looked suddenly up at Terence.
"Twenty-four years," she said, "have passed since I took you into my life. At that time I was told that I was doing a rash thing, a dangerous thing—that before your twenty-fifth birthday the bad blood would out; that you would, in short, have shot a man. And the prophecy has come true. By an irony9 of chance it has happened on the very last day. And by another irony you picked your victim from among the guests under my roof!"
"Victim?" cried Terry hoarsely10. "Victim, Aunt Elizabeth?"
"If you please," she said quietly, "not that name again, Terence. I wish you to know exactly what I have done. Up to this time I have given you a place in my affections. I have tried to the best of my skill to bring you up with a fitting education. I have given you what little wisdom and advice I have to give. Today I had determine............