Читать книгу Hard-Pan. A Story of Bonanza Fortunes онлайн

25 страница из 59

“You’re unjust to Mrs. Maroney,” Viola said gently, and rather weariedly, the visitor thought; “she was only here for two months, and she had quantities of friends to see and people to entertain.”

“Oh, my dear, my dear,” answered the old man, “that’s just your amiable way of looking at it. She was like her husband—she wanted to forget.”

He turned his eyes, still bright under their thick white brows, upon the younger man, and looking at him with an expression of mingled pride and patience, said:

“That is the way with the Californians. Once fall, and the procession passes you, and the men that were beside you don’t wait to turn and see where you dropped. You stay where you fall and you watch the others sweep on. That’s what I have done.”

“Don’t talk that way, father,” said Viola; “Mr. Gault will think you feel unhappy about it.”

The old man smiled, and leaning forward, clasped her hand and held it.

“Mr. Gault,” he said, with quite a grand air, “knows better than that. The opinions of other people don’t affect our happiness. I don’t resent the prosperity of my old mates, nor feel any discouragement at our present—er—temporary embarrassments.”