re this
story opens.

Now his family did not know what to do with him. He disliked business,
and would not study for a profession. He was a dear, lovable fellow,
honest and manly in all his instincts; but indolent, fastidious in his
tastes, and apparently without ambition. He was devoted to music and
flowers, extremely fond of horses, which he rode more than ordinarily
well, and had a liking for good books. He had, furthermore, returned
from his travels filled with pride for his native land, and declaring
that the United States was the only country in the world worth fighting
and dying for.

Taking the morning's mail from the hand of a servant who had just brought
it, Ridge entered his father's presence.

"Here are your letters, sir," he said, "but before you read them I should
like a few moments' conversation with you."

"Certainly, son. What is it?"

As Ridge told what he had heard concerning Herman Dodley, the elder man's
brows darkened; and, when the recital was finished, he said:

"I fear all this is true, and have little doubt that Dodley is no better
than he should be; but, unfortunately, I am so situated at present that I
cannot forbid him the house. I will warn Dulce and her friend against
him; but just now I am not in a position to offend him."

"Why, father!" cried Ridge, amazed to hear his usually fearless and
self-assertive parent adopt this tone. "I thought that you were--"

"Independent of all men," interrupted the other, finishing the sentence.
"So I believed myself to be. But I am suddenly confronted by business
embarrassments that force me temporarily to adopt a different policy.
Truly, Ridge, we are threatened with such serious losses that I am making
every possible sacrifice to try and stem the tide. I have even placed
our summer home on the Long Island coast in an agent's hands, and am
deeply grieved that you should have thrown up a position, promising at
least self-support, upon such slight provocation."

"But he ordered me about as though I were a servant, instead of
requesting me to do things in a gentlemanly way."

"And were you not a servant?"

"No, sir, I was not--at least, not in the sense of being amenable to
brutal commands. I was not, nor will I ever be, anybody's slave."

"Oh well, my boy!" replied the elder, with a deep sigh, "I fear you will
live to discover by sad experience that pride is the most expensive of
earthly luxuries, and that one must consent to obey