That might not have been thought a cheerful feast for Joe Louden.The fatted calf was upon the board, but it had not been provided for the prodigal, who, in this case, was the brother that stayed at home: the fete rewarded the good brother, who had been in strange lands, and the good one had found much honor in his wanderings, as he carelessly let it appear.Mrs.Louden brightened inexpressibly whenever Eugene spoke of himself, and consequently she glowed most of the time.Her husband--a heavy, melancholy, silent man with a grizzled beard and no mustache--lowered at Joe throughout the meal, but appeared to take a strange comfort in his step-son's elegance and polish.Eugene wore new evening clothes and was lustrous to eye and ear.
Joe escaped as soon as he could, though not before the count of his later sins had been set before Eugene in detail, in mass, and in all of their depth, breadth, and thickness.His father spoke but once, after nodding heavily to confirm all points of Mrs.Louden's recital.
"You better use any influence you've got with your brother," he said to Eugene, "to make him come to time.I can't do anything with him.If he gets in trouble, he needn't come to me! I'll never help him again.I'm TIRED of it!"Eugene glanced twinklingly at the outcast."Ididn't know he was such a roarer as all that!" he said, lightly, not taking Joe as of enough consequence to be treated as a sinner.
This encouraged Mrs.Louden to pathos upon the subject of her shame before other women when Joe happened to be mentioned, and the supper was finished with the topic.Joe slipped away through the kitchen, sneakingly, and climbed the back fence.In the alley he lit a cheap cigarette, and thrusting his hands into his pockets and shivering violently--for he had no overcoat,--walked away singing to himself, "A Spanish cavalier stood in his retreat," his teeth affording an appropriate though involuntary castanet accompaniment.