"
"Quincy," said his father, "you must take boxing lessons. When
occasion requires, it is the gentleman's weapon."
The mention of Mary Dana naturally led to a rehearsal of the Wood
case, and all Mary had done in helping Quincy at the beginning of the
search for his father.
"I think I see which way the wind blows," laughed his father, while
Quincy blushed to the roots of his hair, "and I want to meet the
young lady who did so much to bring us all together again."
Alice was proud of her son. He resembled her, having light hair and
blue eyes; a decided contrast to his father whose skin had been
darkened by Italian suns, who had dark eyes, dark hair frosted at the
ends, and a heavy beard, cut in Van Dyke fashion. Few, if any, would
have recognized in him the young man who more than twenty-three years
before had taken passage on the _Altonia_, looking forward to a
pleasant trip and an early return to his native land.
Alice explained to her son her apparent lack of affection for him in
allowing him to be separated from her so long.
"I knew you were with your relatives and good friends, Quincy. In my
nervous, depressed state I was poor company for a young, healthy boy.
Then, I had such a fear of the ocean I dared not go to you and was
afraid to have you come to me. Can you forgive me?"
"My darling mother," said young Quincy, "what you did turned out for
the best.
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