A serene joy diffused itself through Alfred Barton's breast. He became frank, affectionate, and confidential.
“To tell you the truth, dad,” he said, “I was mighty afraid you'd play the deuce with me, because all's over between me and Martha Deane. You seemed so set on it.”
“So I was—so I was,” croaked the old man, “but I've got over it since I saw the Doctor. After all I've heerd, she's not the wife for you; it's better as it is. You'd rayther have the money without her, tell the truth now, you dog, ha! ha!”
“Damme, dad, you've guessed it!” Alfred cried, joining in the laugh. “She's too high-flown for me. I never fancied a woman that's ready to take you down, every other word you say; and I'll tell you now, that I hadn't much stomach for the match, at any time; but you wanted it, you know, and I've done what I could, to please you.”
“You're a good boy, Alfred,—a mighty good boy.”
There was nothing very amusing in this opinion, but the old man laughed over it, by fits and starts, for a long time.
“Take a drop o' brandy, boy!” he said. “You may as well have my share, till I'm ready to begin ag'in.”
This was the very climax of favor. Alfred arose with a broad beam of triumph on his face, filled the glass, and saying,—“Here's long life to you, dad!” turned it into his mouth.
“Long life?” the old man muttered. “It's pretty long as it is,—eighty-six and over; but it may be ninety-six, or a hundred and six; who knows? Anyhow, boy, long or short, I'll make a new will.”
Giles was now summoned, to wheel him into the adjoining room and put him to bed. Alfred Barton took a second glass of brandy (after the door was closed), lighted a fresh pipe, and seated himself again before the embers to enjoy the surprise and exultation of his fortune. To think that he had worried himself so long for that which finally came of itself! Half his fear of the old man, he reflected, had been needless; in many things he had acted like the veriest fool! Well, it was a consolation to know that all his anxieties were over. The day that should make him a rich and important man might be delayed (his father's strength and vitality were marvellous), but it was certain to come.