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danced。。。。 From this mood I was awakened with a start to feel a hand on
my shoulder； and I turned to confront her father； McAlery Willett； a
gregarious； easygoing； pleasure…loving gentleman who made only a pretence
of business； having inherited an ample fortune from his father； unique
among his generation in our city in that he paid some attention to
fashion in his dress； good living was already beginning to affect his
figure。 His mellow voice had a way of breaking an octave。
〃Don't worry； my boy；〃 he said。 〃You stick to business。 These college
fellows are cocks of the walk just now； but some day you'll be able to
snap your fingers at all of 'em。〃
The next day was dark； overcast； smoky； damp…the soft； unwholesome
dampness that follows a spell of hard frost。 I spent the morning and
afternoon on the gloomy third floor of Breck and Company； making a list
of the stock。 I remember the place as though I had just stepped out of
it； the freight elevator at the back； the dusty； iron columns； the
continuous piles of cases and bags and barrels with narrow aisles between
them； the dirty windows； spotted and soot…streaked； that looked down on
Second Street。 I was determined now to escape from all this； and I had
my plan in mind。
No sooner had I swallowed my supper that evening than I set out at a
swift pace for a modest residence district ten blocks away； coming to a
little frame house set back in a yard；one of those houses in which the
ringing of the front door…bell produces the greatest commotion；
children's voices were excitedly raised and then hushed。 After a brief
silence the door was opened by a pleasant…faced； brown…bearded man； who
stood staring at me in surprise。 His hair was rumpled； he wore an old
house coat with a hole in the elbow； and with one finger he kept his
place in the book which he held in his hand。
〃Hugh Paret！〃 he exclaimed。
He ushered me into a little parlour lighted by two lamps； that bore every
evidence of having been recently vacated。 Its features somehow bespoke a
struggle for existence； as though its occupants had worried much and
loved much。 It was a room best described by the word 〃home〃home made
more precious by a certain precariousness。 Toys and school…books strewed
the floor； a sewing…bag and apron lay across the sofa； and in one corner
was a roll…topped desk of varnished oak。 The seats of the chairs were
comfortably depressed。
So this was where Mr。 Wood lived！ Mr。 Wood； instructor in Latin and
Greek at Densmore Academy。 It was now borne in on me for the first time
that he did live and have his ties like any other human being； instead of
just appearing magically from nowhere on a platform in a chalky room at
nine every morning； to vanish again in the afternoon。 I had formerly
stood in awe of his presence。 But now I was suddenly possessed by an
embarrassment； and （shall I say it？） by a commiseration bordering on
contempt for a man who would consent to live thus for the sake of being a
schoolteacher。 How strange that civilization should set such a high
value on education and treat its functionaries with such neglect！
Mr。 Wood's surprise at seeing me was genuine。 For I had never shown a
particular interest in him； nor in the knowledge which he strove to
impart。
〃I thought you had forgotten me； Hugh；〃 he said； and added whimsically：
〃most boys do； when they graduate。〃
I felt the reproach； which made it the more difficult for me to state my
errand。
〃I knew you sometimes took pupils in the evening； Mr。 Wood。〃
〃Pupils；yes；〃 he replied； still eyeing me。 Suddenly his eyes twinkled。
He had indeed no reason to suspect me of thirsting for learning。 〃But I
was under the impression that you had gone into business； Hugh。〃
〃The fact is； sir；〃 I explained somewhat painfully； 〃that I am not
satisfied with business。 I feelas if I ought to know more。 And I came
to see if you would give me lessons about three nights a week； because I
want to take the Harvard examinations next summer。〃
Thus I made it appear； and so persuaded myself； that my ambition had been
prompted by a craving for knowledge。 As soon as he could recover himself
he reminded me that he had on many occasions declared I had a brain。
〃Your father must be very happy over this decision of yours；〃 he said。
That was the point； I told him。 It was to be a surprise for my father； I
was to take the examinations first； and inform him afterwards。
To my intense relief； Mr。 Wood found the scheme wholly laudable； and
entered into it with zest。 He produced examinations of preceding years
from a pigeonhole in his desk； and inside of half an hour the arrangement
was made； the price of the lessons settled。 They were well within my
salary； which recently had been raised。。。。
When I went down town； or collecting bills for Breck and Company； I took
a text…book along with me in the street…cars。 Now at last I had behind
my studies a driving force。 Algebra； Latin； Greek and history became
worth while； means to an end。 I astonished Mr。 Wood； and sometimes he
would tilt back his chair； take off his spectacles and pull his beard。
〃Why in the name of all the sages；〃 he would demand； 〃couldn't you have
done this well at school？ You might have led your class； instead of
Ralph Hambleton。〃
I grew very fond of Mr。 Wood； and even of his thin little wife； who
occasionally flitted into the room after we had finished。 I fully
intended to keep up with them in after life； but I never did。 I forgot
them completely。。。。
My parents were not wholly easy in their minds concerning me； they were
bewildered by the new aspect I presented。 For my lately acquired motive
was strong enough to compel me to restrict myself socially； and the
evenings I spent at home were given to study； usually in my own room。
Once I was caught with a Latin grammar： I was just 〃looking over it；〃 I
said。 My mother sighed。 I knew what was in her mind； she had always
been secretly disappointed that I had not been sent to college。 And
presently； when my father went out to attend a trustee's meeting； the
impulse to confide in her almost overcame me； I loved her with that
affection which goes out to those whom we feel understand us； but I was
learning to restrain my feelings。 She looked at me wistfully。。。。 I knew
that she would insist on telling my father； and thus possibly frustrate
my plans。 That I was not discovered was due to a certain quixotic twist
in my father's character。 I was working now； and though not actually
earning my own living； he no longer felt justified in prying into my
affairs。
When June arrived； however； my tutor began to show signs that his
conscience was troubling him； and one night he delivered his ultimatum。
The joke had gone far enough； he implied。 My intentions； indeed； he
found praiseworthy； but in his opinion it was high time that my father
were informed of them； he was determined to call at my father's office。
The next morning was blue with the presage of showers； blue； too； with
the presage of fate。 An interminable morning。 My tasks had become
utterly distasteful。 And in the afternoon； so when I sat down to make
out invoices； I wrote automatically the names of the familiar customers；
my mind now exalted by hope； now depressed by anxiety。 The result of an
interview perhaps even now going on would determine whether or no I
should be immediately released from a slavery I detested。 Would Mr。 Wood
persuade my father？ If not； I was prepared to take more desperate
measures； remain in the grocery business I would not。 In the evening； as
I hurried homeward from the corner where the Boyne Street car had dropped
me； I halted suddenly in front of the Peters house； absorbing the scene
where my childhood had been spent： each of these spreading maples was an
old friend； and in these yards I had played and dreamed。 An
unaccountable sadness passed over me as I walked on toward our gate； I
entered it； gained the doorway of the house and went upstairs； glancing
into the sitting room。 My mother sat by the window； sewing。 She looked
up at me with an ineffable expression； in which I read a trace of tears。
〃Hugh！〃 she exclaimed。
I felt very uncomfortable； and stood looking down at her。
〃Why didn't you tell us； my son？〃 In her voice was in truth reproach；
yet mingled with that was another note； which I think was pride。
〃What has father said？〃 I asked。
〃Oh； my dear； he will tell you himself。 II don't knowhe will talk to
you。〃
Suddenly she seized my hands and drew me down to her； and then held me
away； gazing into my face with a passionate questioning； her lips
smiling； her eyes wet。 What did she see？ Was there a subtler
relationship between our natures than I guessed？ Did she understand by
some instinctive power the riddle within me？ divine through love the
force that was driving me on she knew not whither； nor I？ At the sound
of my father's step in the hall she released me。 He came in as though
nothing had happened。
〃Well； Hugh； are you home？〃 he said。。。。
Never had I been more impressed； more bewildered by his self…command than
at that time。 Save for the fact that my mother talked less than