I. A. R. Wylie

“ That protégé of yours—that Milroy has been whining to you.”
“No one has whined, Andrew Denborough. I have not come here to plead with you. You came to Beachtown to administer justice, as you thought. I also have come to administer justice.”
“You? On whom?”
“On you.”
He sat stiff and straight, wholly unmoved.
“I am prepared to accept justice. I was and am innocent. The world—every one but you—knows that much.”
“Every one but me!” The shadow of a smile twisted her thin lips. “Your hands are quite clean, Andrew Denborough?” ”

“ For the two men had started their race to glory in the selfsame year, in the selfsame dry-goods store, and one was a Mayor and the other only town councilor. Had Jeremy Hathers sunk into utter nothingness the contrast would have been more poignant but less delicately flattering.
There were ten other guests in the room. A representative group. Not one of Beachtown's important men had been omitted. The young doctor who had made the discovery of the healing spring was the only one who might in any way be regarded as an alien. No one knew very much about him. ”

“ He took her hands from his shoulders and kissed them reverently. “Women bear the worst brunt of the battle. You've shared the bad days with me, you loyal comrade. Pray God the good days are in sight now for us all.”
She made no answer but her eyes shone in unfaltering hope through the sudden rush of tears; and with a quick-drawn sigh he turned from her and crossed to the still, motionless figure by the fireside. There he stood for an instant with his hand resting on the back of her chair. ”

“ Dr. Milroy, I speak to you as one man to another. And all men err. I erred. It seems that no man's hands are clean enough to enforce the justice I claimed. I see that now. Will you tell the others that I retract all I said that night—that I am sorry?” He straightened his shoulders. “The work that I have begun will go on, Dr. Milroy. But it shall be my gift to Beachtown—my act of restitution, shall we say? Is it accepted?”
There was a moment of painful silence. Alice Milroy looked at the man standing by the light and then up to her husband's hard-set face.
“DENIS!” ”

“ Action is the only language men of our caliber understand, but it seems to me that the moment has come when I, the Mayor of Beachtown and deputed spokesman for my fellow citizens, should express to you our joy in welcoming you back in our midst. ”

“ We say so too, don't we? And perhaps we, who love him best, count most.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Don't we?”
The old woman by the fireside did not move or look at her. She was very old, but of the two she seemed the more virile. She sat up, stiffly erect, disdaining the easy-backed chair, her mouth tight-set, her eyes from under the arched black brows fixed relentlessly on the firelight. One thin hand was outstretched and gripped the Malacca cane with a strength that made the knuckles stand out like polished ivory. ”

“ Beachtown has just business capacity enough to know that it has none. If this enterprise is going to succeed it will only do so with Denis at the head. They know that and they are too deeply involved to run risks. Trust them to thrust the weight of responsibility on some one else's shoulders. ”

“ Each man in his own way was fighting his own particular form of discomfort. They had expected things to be different—how different they were not sure—either less formal or more so. They were baffled by Denborough's unchanged attitude toward them and the subtle change in the man himself. ”

“ Of course I am too young to know what happened, but I understand that Beachtown owes Mr. Denborough reparation for a serious wrong. Mr. Baillie—all the older generation—feel that nothing too much can be done to express their regret for their share in the past. There will be a deputation of the chief town folk to receive him and a banquet in his honor. ”

“ Beachtown's old-fashioned hotel had not seen such prodigality in all the days of its existence.
Denborough motioned each man to his place.
“Johnnie, you here, old fellow, at my right. I claim the privilege of sitting next Beachtown's go-ahead Mayor. You've found your seat as by instinct, Hathers. You see, I remembered your liking for the fire-side. You over there, Sanders. Dr. Milroy will you take the other end? Age and youth at opposite poles, eh? ”

“ John Baillie's voice rose above the subdued conversation.
“Andrew Denborough was always a man of refinement,” he said. “Now I come to think of it, he was perfectly right to refuse to meet the deputation. It would have been painful for himself and for all of us. He showed delicacy, too, in choosing to receive us on his own ground, as it were. Yes, that was delicate and, at the same time, dignified. I understand his motives perfectly. Mr. Denborough is a gentleman.”
“And a millionaire,” put in some one. ”