[The Red Acorn by John McElroy]@TWC D-Link book
The Red Acorn

CHAPTER IV
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Possibly there would appear in time some other girl, whom he might prefer to Rachel, and at all events there was no necessity for his committing himself when he did, for Rachel "would have kept," as Ned Burnleigh coarsely put it, when made the recipient of Harry's confidence.
Three months of companionship with Ned Burnleigh, and daily imbibation of that young man's stories of his wonderful conquests among young women of peerless beauty and exalted social station confirmed this feeling, and led him to wish for at least such slackening of the betrothal tether as would permit excursions into a charmed realm like that where Ned reigned supreme.
For the thousandth time--and in each recurrence becoming a little clearer defined and more urgent--came the question: "Shall I break with Rachel?
How can I?
And what possible excuse can I assign for it ?" There came no answer to this save the spurs with which base self-love was pricking the sides of his intent, and he recoiled from it--ashamed of himself, it is true, but less ashamed at each renewed consideration of the query.
He hastened home that he might receive a greeting that would efface the memory of the reception he had met with in the street.

There, at least, he would be regarded as a hero, returning laurel-crowned from the conflict.
As he entered the door his father, tall, spare and iron-gray, laid down the paper he was reading, and with a noticeable lowering of the temperature of his wonted calm but earnest cordiality, said simply: "How do you do?
When did you get in ?" "Very well, and on the 10:30 train." "Did all your company come ?" Harry winced, for there was something in his father's manner, more than his words, expressive of strong disapproval.

He answered: "No; I was unwell.

The water and the exposure disagreed with me, and I was allowed to come on in advance." Mr.Glen, the elder, carefully folded the paper he was reading and laid it on the stand, as if its presence would embarrass him in what he was about to say.

He took off his eye-glasses, wiped them deliberately, closed them up and hesitated for a moment, holding them between the thumb and fore finger of one hand, before placing them in their case, which he had taken from his pocket with the other.
These were all gestures with which experience had made Harry painfully familiar.


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