That the colonel was dumfounded--never having seen her in any such state of mind--goes without saying.

That he was proud of her and liked her the better for it, is also true--nothing delighted him so much as courage;--but nothing of all this, impressive as it was, either weakened or altered his resolve.
Nor did he change front to his friends and acquaintances: his honorable name, he maintained, had been trailed in the mud; his boasted hospitality betrayed; his house turned into a common shamble.

That his own son was the culprit made the pain and mortification the greater, but it did not lessen his responsibility to his blood.

Had not Foscari, to save his honor, in the days of the great republic, condemned his own son Jacopo to exile and death?
Had not Virginius slain his daughter?
Should he not protect his own honor as well?
Furthermore, was not the young man's father a gentleman of standing--a prominent man in the State--a friend not only of his own friend, Henry Clay, but of the governor as well?
He, of course, would not have Harry marry into the family had there been a marriageable daughter, but that was no reason why Mr.
Willits's only son should not be treated with every consideration.

He, Talbot Rutter, was alone responsible for the honor of his house.