He might be the greater sufferer in the end,but he was sorry to have got the better of that old man for the moment;and he felt ashamed of the anger into which Dryfoos's anger had surprised him.He knew he could not say too much in defence of Lindau's generosity and unselfishness,and he had not attempted to defend him as a political economist.He could not have taken any ground in relation to Dryfoos but that which he held,and he felt satisfied that he was right in refusing to receive instructions or commands from him.Yet somehow he was not satisfied with the whole affair,and not merely because his present triumph threatened his final advantage,but because he felt that in his heat he had hardly done justice to Dryfoos's rights in the matter;it did not quite console him to reflect that Dryfoos had himself made it impossible.He was tempted to go home and tell his wife what had happened,and begin his preparations for the future at once.But he resisted this weakness and kept mechanically about his work,opening the letters and the manuscripts before him with that curious double action of the mind common in men of vivid imaginations.It was a relief when Conrad Dryfoos,having apparently waited to make sure that his father would not return,came up from the counting-room and looked in on March with a troubled face.
"Mr.March,"he began,"I hope father hasn't been saying anything to you that you can't overlook.I know he was very much excited,and when he is excited he is apt to say things that he is sorry for."The apologetic attitude taken for Dryfoos,so different from any attitude the peremptory old man would have conceivably taken for himself,made March smile."Oh no.I fancy the boot is on the other leg.I suspect I've said some things your father can't overlook,Conrad."He called the young man by his Christian name partly to distinguish him from his father,partly from the infection of Fulkerson's habit,and partly from a kindness for him that seemed naturally to express itself in that way.
"I know he didn't sleep last night,after you all went away,"Conrad pursued,"and of course that made him more irritable;and he was tried a good deal by some of the things that Mr.Lindau said.""I was tried a good deal myself,"said March."Lindau ought never to have been there.""No."Conrad seemed only partially to assent.
"I told Mr.Fulkerson so.I warned him that Lindau would be apt to break out in some way.It wasn't just to him,and it wasn't just to your father,to ask him.""Mr.Fulkerson had a good motive,"Conrad gently urged."He did it because he hurt his feelings that day about the pension.""Yes,but it was a mistake.He knew that Lindau was inflexible about his principles,as he calls them,and that one of his first principles is to denounce the rich in season and out of season.I don't remember just what he said last night;and I really thought I'd kept him from breaking out in the most offensive way.But your father seems very much incensed.""Yes,I know,"said Conrad.
"Of course,I don't agree with Lindau.I think there are as many good,kind,just people among the rich as there are among the poor,and that they are as generous and helpful.But Lindau has got hold of one of those partial truths that hurt worse than the whole truth,and--""Partial truth!"the young man interrupted."Didn't the Saviour himself say,'How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God?'""Why,bless my soul!"cried March."Do you agree with Lindau?""I agree with the Lord Jesus Christ,"said the young man,solemnly,and a strange light of fanaticism,of exaltation,came into his wide blue eyes.
"And I believe He meant the kingdom of heaven upon this earth,as well as in the skies."March threw himself back in his chair and looked at him with a kind of stupefaction,in which his eye wandered to the doorway,where he saw Fulkerson standing,it seemed to him a long time,before he heard him saying:"Hello,hello!What's the row?Conrad pitching into you on old Lindau's account,too?"The young man turned,and,after a glance at Fulkerson's light,smiling face,went out,as if in his present mood he could not bear the contact of that persiflant spirit.
March felt himself getting provisionally very angry again."Excuse me,Fulkerson,but did you know when you went out what Mr.Dryfoos wanted to see me for?""Well,no,I didn't exactly,"said Fulkerson,taking his usual seat on a chair and looking over the back of it at March."I saw he was on his car about something,and I thought I'd better not monkey with him much.
I supposed he was going to bring you to book about old Lindau,somehow."Fulkerson broke into a laugh.
March remained serious."Mr.Dryfoos,"he said,willing to let the simple statement have its own weight with Fulkerson,and nothing more,"came in here and ordered me to discharge Lindau from his employment on the magazine--to turn him off,as he put it.""Did he?"asked Fulkerson,with unbroken cheerfulness."The old man is business,every time.Well,I suppose you can easily get somebody else to do Lindau's work for you.This town is just running over with half-starved linguists.What did you say?"
"What did I say?"March echoed."Look here,Fulkerson;you may regard this as a joke,but I don't.I'm not used to being spoken to as if Iwere the foreman of a shop,and told to discharge a sensitive and cultivated man like Lindau,as if he were a drunken mechanic;and if that's your idea of me--""Oh,hello,now,March!You mustn't mind the old man's way.He don't mean anything by it--he don't know any better,if you come to that.""Then I know better,"said March."I refused to receive any instructions from Mr.Dryfoos,whom I don't know in my relations with 'Every Other Week,'and I referred him to you.""You did?,"Fulkerson whistled."He owns the thing!""I don't care who owns the thing,"said March."My negotiations were with you alone from the beginning,and I leave this matter with you.
What do you wish done about Lindau?"
