“Are we Americans free from it?” his father asked. “To my mind, conceit is often but the indication of self-conscious power. Its possessors never acknowledge defeat I have always had that feeling in my law practice.”
Quincy changed the subject, “What have you in the boat house?”
“Canoes—three canoes. I have ordered a large row-boat but it is not ready yet. When I own the 'lake' and the land beyond, my residence will stand in the centre of my estate. I shall retire from practice in a few years, and spend my last days here. We all have to go back to the soil and I am going to make my progress gradual.”
“Won't you find it rather dull here after so long an active life in the city?”
“Not dull, but quiet,” was the dignified response. “I shall pass my time surveying the beauties of Nature to which, to my discredit, I have been so long oblivious; then, I shall commune with the great minds in literature, and read the latest law reports.”
Quincy wondered whether Nature, literature, or law would be his father's most appreciated relaxation, but inclined to the latter.
The next morning Maude exclaimed: “Let's have some fun. What shall we do?”
“There are three canoes in the boat house,” said Quincy, “why not a row on the pond?”
“Fine!” cried Maude. “Quincy, you are a man of ideas.”
Captain Hornaby had asked Florence to go with him and she had willingly consented. This emboldened Harry Merry, who had come down from the State House with the Governor's correspondence, and he, rather bashfully, requested Maude's company in the third canoe.