He had during his walk fought a hard battle with himself, and had conquered.

As his temper cooled down he had felt that he had broken his promise, that he had not been kind to his mother; felt, too, that her accusation was a true one--he would not have dared to speak so to her had his father been alive.
"But it was so different then," he had said to himself as the tears chased each other down his cheeks.

"Father understood me, and cared for me, and made allowances.

It was worth while fighting against one's temper just to have him put his hand on my shoulder and say, 'Well done, my boy.' Now it is so different.

I will go on trying for his sake; but I know it's no good.