He flushed to his eyes.

It cut him deep, but her eyes only had a distant, dreamy look which conveyed nothing of the sting in her words.

Like most men, he had a touch of vanity too, and he might have resented the words vaguely, had he not remembered his talk with his mother an hour before.
She had begged him to have patience, she had made him promise that he would not in any circumstance say an ungentle or bitter thing, that he would bide the effort of constant devotion, and his love of the child.
Especially must he try to reach her through love of the child.
By which it will be seen that Mrs.Armour had come to some wisdom by reason of her love for Frank's wife and child.
"My son," she had said, "through the child is the surest way, believe me; for only a mother can understand what that means, how much and how far it goes.

You are a father, but until last night you never had the flush of that love in your veins.

You stand yet only at the door of that life which has done more to guide, save, instruct, and deepen your wife's life than anything else, though your brother Richard--to whom you owe a debt that you can never repay--has done much in deed.