“Pretty much as it always is,” croaked out the other.
“Be thankful to it, then; for if you were not a cripple, I 'd throw you into that river as sure as I stand here to say it.”
Major McCormick did not wait for a less merciful moment, but hobbled away from the spot with all the speed he could muster.
CHAPTER XIV. STORMS
When Stapylton stepped out of his boat and landed at “The Home,” the first person he saw was certainly the last in his wishes. It was Miss Dinah who stood at the jetty, as though awaiting him. Scarcely deigning to notice, beyond a faint smile of acquiescence, the somewhat bungling explanation he gave of his absence, she asked if he had met her brother.
“No,” said he. “I left the village a couple of hours ago; rather loitering, as I came along, to enjoy the river scenery.”
“He took the road, and in this way missed you,” said she, dryly.
“How unfortunate!—for me, I mean, of course. I own to you, Miss Barrington, wide as the difference between our ages, I never yet met any one so thoroughly companionable to me as your brother. To meet a man so consummately acquainted with the world, and yet not soured by his knowledge; to see the ripe wisdom of age blended with the generous warmth of youth; to find one whose experiences only make him more patient, more forgiving, more trustful—”
“Too trustful, Major Stapylton, far too trustful.” And her bold gray eyes were turned upon him as she spoke, with a significance that could not be mistaken.