Not that she wished her father to die; simply
that Charlton's confidence in his long life forced her to face
the only alternative--bringing him round to accept Victor Dorn.
At her father's next remark she began to listen with a high
beating heart. He said to Charlton:
``How about that there friend of yours--that young Dorn? You
ain't talked about him to-day as much as usual.''
``The last time we talked about him we quarreled,'' said
Charlton. ``It's irritating to see a man of your intelligence a
slave to silly prejudices.''
``I like Victor Dorn,'' replied Hastings in a most conciliatory
tone. ``I think he's a fine young man. Didn't I have him up
here at my house not long ago? Jane'll tell you that I like him.
She likes him, too. But the trouble with him--and with you,
too--is that you're dreaming all the time. You don't recognize
facts. And, so, you make a lot of trouble for us conservative
men.''
``Please don't use that word conservative,'' said Charlton. ``It
gags me to hear it. YOU'RE not a conservative. If you had been
you'd still be a farm hand. You've been a radical all your
life--changing things round and round, always according to your
idea of what was to your advantage. The only difference between
radicals like you robber financiers and radicals like Victor and
me is that our ideas of what's to our advantage differ. To you
life means money; to us it means health and comfort and
happiness.
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