“Listen! That is thy father’s gallop. Far off, I know it. So early in the morning, what is he coming for?”
“He had an intention to go to Mr. Semple’s funeral.”
“That is good. Thy grandfather is already gone—” and she looked so pointedly down at her black petticoat and bodice, that Hyde answered—
“Yes; I see that you are in mourning. Is it for Mr. Franklin, or for Mr. Semple?”
“Franklin was far off; by my fireside Alexander Semple often sat; and at my table often he ate. Good friends were we once—good friends are we now; for all but Love, Death buries.”
At this moment General Hyde entered the room. Hurry and excitement were in his face, though they were well controlled. He gave his hand to Madame Van Heemskirk, saying—
“Good-morning, mother! You look well, as you always do:”—then turning to his son and regarding the young man’s easy, smiling indifference, he said with some temper, “What the devil, George, are you doing here, so early in the day? I have been through the town seeking you—everywhere—even at that abominable Club, where Frenchmen and vagabonds of all kinds congregate.”
“I was at the Vice-President’s, sir,” answered George, with a comical assumption of the Vice-President’s manner.
“You were WHERE?”
“At Richmond Hill. I made an early call on Mrs. Adams.”