“I am glad you mentioned last evening, for I wish to speak of something I noticed during the serving of dinner and afterward. Who was that old gentleman whom you introduced as Professor Charlton?” said the young woman interrogatively.
“Oh, that is my old friend and fellow classmate when we were at Harvard. He is a Georgian and is Dean of the Georgia University and one of the most learned ethnologists in the world. He is here to consult with Professor Wright of Harvard concerning a forthcoming book on which Charlton has been engaged for years. Now, that I have answered fully, why were you curious about that old book-worm and chum of mine, my pretty inquisitor?”
“Simply because he seemed perfectly fascinated by my husband. He appeared unable to remove his gaze from him even when addressed by you or any one else. He would peer at him over his glasses, then raise his head and inspect Walter through them just as botanists do when they come upon some rare plant.”
“By Jove! What next will that brown head of yours conjure up to worry over? Are you jealous of old Charlton’s admiring glances? If he were a pretty woman I might understand, but old Cobb Charlton. Well! I am prepared for anything, my pet, so go ahead. What about those glances seen by your watchful eyes?” said her grandfather, chuckling over some farcical suggestion in connection with old Professor Thos. Cobb Charlton.
“Yes, but they were not admiring glances, and I didn’t say so. They were studious, scrutinizing, investigating, and I thought, insulting,” indignantly replied Lucy.
“Ah! Now we are called upon to criticise the quality and kind of glance with which an old student may regard a gay young fellow who is rattling gleefully through a somewhat tedious dinner,” said Mr. Dunlap in an amused manner.
“You may laugh at me, grandfather, as much as you please, but Walter was made so nervous and uncomfortable by that old fellow’s disconcerting scrutiny that he acted almost silly. I have never seen him quite so ridiculously merry. That old Professor squinted even at Walter’s hands, as if he wished for a microscope to examine them, and after dinner while Walter was singing he edged up near the piano and peered down Walter’s throat, listening intently as if to catch some peculiar note for which he was waiting, all the time with his old head on one side like an ugly owl,” said the exasperated young woman.
Lucy’s description of his old college friend and her manner of setting forth his idiosyncracies was too much for James Dunlap’s risibility. He threw back his head and incontinently laughed in his granddaughter’s pretty flushed face.
“Oh! my, Oh! my! How old Cobb would enjoy this! My dearest, old Cobb Charlton is the jolliest, most amiable fellow on earth. He would not wound the sensibilities of a street-dog, and is one of the best bred gentlemen alive. Oh! my, Lucy! You’ll be the death of me yet with your whimsical notions,” cried the fine old fellow leaning back in his chair, shaking with laughter.
“Well, I don’t care; it is just as I said, for finally, he seemed to discover something about Walter for which he had been seeking. I saw a self-satisfied smile steal over his face as he nodded his bushy white head. Then he stared at you as if amazed, and then, if I be not blind and I don’t think that I am, he had the impertinence to look at me with, actually, pity in his big, staring black eyes,” retorted Lucy angrily as she recalled the events of the previous evening.