Starwick and Eugene, I suppose we’ll have to say good-bye,” said Effie regretfully. “We’ve got no right to keep them from the little birdies any longer—have we, dear? And think what a treat it will be for all the little birdies…. And you, Eugene!” she cried out gaily and reproachfully, but now with real warmth and friendship in her voice. “We haven’t seen you at our home in a-a-ages! What’s wrong with you?… You come up soon or I’ll be mad at you.”
“Sure,” Horton came out in his broad Iowa accent, putting his hand gently on the boy’s shoulder. “Come up to see us, kid. We’ll cook some grub and chew the rag a while. You know, I’m not coming back next year—” for a moment Horton’s eyes were clear, grey, luminous, deeply hurt, and full of pride and tenderness. “We’re going to New Hampshire with Jim Madden. So come up, kid, as soon as you can: we ought to have one more session before I go.”
And the boy, suddenly touched and moved, felt a genuine affection, the real friendliness—an animal-like warmth and kindliness and affection that was the truest and most attractive element in Horton’s personality.
And nodding his head, suddenly feeling affection for them both again, he said:
“All right, Ed. I’ll see you soon. So long, Effie. Good-bye. Goodbye, Ed.”
“Good-bye, kid. So long, Starwick,” Horton said in a kindly tone. “We’ll be looking for you, Gene—So long!”
Then they parted, in this friendly manner, and Starwick and Eugene continued their walk along the river. Starwick walked quietly, saying nothing; from time to time he called sharply to the little dog, commanding him to come to “heel” again.
The two young men had not seen each other for two months, save at Professor Hatcher’s class, and then their relations had been formal, cold, and strained. Now Starwick, with a quick friendly and generous spontaneity, had broken through the stubborn and resentful pride of the other youth, had made the first advance toward reconciliation, and, as he was able to do with everyone when and where he pleased, had instantly conquered his friend’s resentful feelings and won him back with the infinite grace, charm, and persuasiveness of his own personality.
Yet, during the first part of their walk along the river their conversation, while friendly, had almost been studiously detached and casual, and was the conversation of people still under the constraint of embarrassment and diffidence,
