Her beloved Master Pat had turned into an inscrutable old ogre, whom she loved but scarcely dared to brave. She felt assured, in view of the modern young specimen upstairs, that he had reason to be in this mood, and she but adored and feared him the more, after the old-fashioned feminine way, that he had it in him to storm around in this fashion; but she was frightened to death to have to deal with him while it lasted. Behind her, smiling quite assured, and splendid to look upon this morning with the soot washed from his face, and his big body attired fittingly, stood the minister, a book in his hand and a look of pleasant anticipation in his face.

Then Patterson Greeves remembered as in a dream of something far past that he had invited the minister to take a hike with him this morning and afterward to lunch with him. The boy Blink was to have gone along. How fair and innocent the prospect was compared to what had now happened to him! He looked as one who was about to tear his hair out, so helpless and tragic were his eyes.

Chapter 4

Oh! It’s you!” There was at least a wistfulness in his tone.

“Good morning!” said the minister. “Am I—? Perhaps our plans are not convenient for you this morning—?”

“Oh!” said Patterson Greeves stupidly, as if he had just remembered.

“You look done out, man! Is anything the matter? Can I help? If not, shouldn’t I just leave this book I promised and run along till another time?”

“No. Come in!” said Patterson Greeves with a desperate look in his face. “You’re a minister! It’s your business to help people in trouble. I’m in the deuce of a mess and no mistake. You can’t help me out. Nobody can. But it would afford me some satisfaction to ask you how the devil you can go around preaching the love of God when He allows such Satanic curses to fall on men.”

Bannard gave him a quick, keen glance, and set his clean-shaven lips in a firm line as he threw his hat on the hall console and stepped inside the door.

Anne Truesdale retreated hastily to the pantry and paused to wipe a frightened tear from her white cheek. The other servants must not suspect what had happened to the master. Was this then the secret of the sadness of his face, that he had forsaken the faith of his fathers and taken to cursing and swearing? It made her shiver even yet to remember how familiarly he had spoken of the devil. Dear old Mr. Standish Silver! It was well he was not present to be grieved! And little pretty Miss Lavinia! If she had heard her darling’s voice talking that way about her Heavenly Father it would have killed her outright! Just have killed her outright! Oh, it was sad times, and the world growing weary instead of bright. And she so glad only the day before that Master Pat was coming home! Poor Master Pat! She must order waffles for lunch. He was always so fond of them. She must do all in her power to win him back to right living. It must have been that awful war! They said some of the officers were that careless! And of course he’d been a long time away from home. Poor Master Pat! She must pray for him humbly. There was no one else left to do it. That was what Miss Lavinia would have done, crept to her old padded wing chair and knelt long with the shades drawn. So she always did when Master Pat was a boy and did wrong. There was the time when he told his first lie. How she remembered that day. Miss Lavinia ate nothing for a whole twenty-four hours, just fasted and prayed.

She, too, would fast, and would go to Miss Lavinia’s room and the old wing chair, and draw the shades and lock the door, and pray for the master! Perhaps then her prayer might be heard and answered. She would ask for the sake of Miss Lavinia and his uncle Silver. They must be beloved of the Lord. It would be terrible to have their nephew come out an unbeliever in these days of unbelief.