ncerns them, and which they
know must be very painful to me. But you have the courage of your
convictions; you have no compunctions about tearing open old wounds;
and you come here, unasked and uninvited, to let me know what you
think of my conduct, to let me understand that it does not agree with
your own ideas of what I ought to do, and to tell me how I, who am old
enough to be your father, should behave. You have rushed in where
angels fear to tread, Mr. Van Bibber, to show me the error of my ways.
I suppose I ought to thank you for it; but I have always said that it
is not the wicked people who are to be feared in this world, or who do
the most harm. We know them; we can prepare for them, and checkmate
them. It is the well-meaning fool who makes all the trouble. For no
one knows him until he discloses himself, and the mischief is done
before he can be stopped. I think, if you will allow me to say so,
that you have demonstrated my theory pretty thoroughly and have done
about as much needless harm for one evening as you can possibly wish.
And so, if you will excuse me," he continued, sternly, and moving from
his place, "I will ask to say good-night, and will request of you that
you grow older and wiser and much more considerate before you come to
see me again."

Van Bibber had flushed at Mr. Caruthers's first words, and had then
grown somewhat pale, and straightened himself visibly. He did not move
when the elder man had finished, but cleared his throat, and then
spoke with some little difficulty. "It is very easy to call a man a
fool," he said, slowly, "but it is much harder to be called a fool and
not to throw the other man out of the window. But that, you see, would
not do any good, and I have something to say to you first. I am quite
clear in my own mind as to my position, and I am not going to allow
anything you have said or can say to annoy me much until I am through.
There will be time enough to resent it then. I am quite well aware
that I did an unconventional thing in coming here--a bold thing or a
foolish thing, as you choose--but the situation is pretty bad, and I
did as I would have wished to be done by if I had had a child going to
the devil and didn't know it. I should have been glad to learn of it
even from a stranger. However," he said, smiling grimly, and pulling
his cape about him, "there are other kindly disposed people in the
world besides fathers. There is an aunt, perhaps, or an uncle or two;
an