"Your father," she began, "has changed his mind about going to the
mines in the Southwest. I saw him after that dreadful thing had
happened at Broadso's. He was afraid I might think he had a hand in
it, so he came at once to reassure me. Of course, he was not
implicated in any way. It will please you, Christine, to know that my
father had a long talk with him on the day following the murder, and
that he was more than merely impressed by the change in him. He firmly
believes that your father means to lead an honorable, upright life. I,
too, believe that he can work out his own redemption. Perhaps David
will bear me out in this. He saw him, and he noted the wonderful
change. Time, however, will tell. I ought not to be too rash with my
prophecies.
"He loves you. He wants to reclaim your love and respect. That is all
he has to live for, I firmly believe. For this reason, if for no
other, I am confident he will make a brave, a wonderful effort. What
he needs most of all is encouragement, sympathy, the promise of
ultimate reward. If he realizes that the time may yet come when he can
stand before you without shame on his own part, and be received
without shame on your part and David's, I am sure it will mean
everything to him in the struggle he is to make in the next three or
four years.
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