“Lord Agincourt would appear to be very much attached to Alfred.”
“So much the worse; such friendships interfere with the work of tuition, and they never endure after it is over. To be sure, now and then a tutor is remembered, and if he has shown himself discreet about his pupil's misdeeds, reserved as to his shortcomings, and only moderately rebukeful as to his faults, such virtue is often rewarded with a bishopric. What have we here, Grace? Is not that a row-boat rounding the point yonder, and heading into the bay?”
So rare an event might well have caused astonishment; for since the place had been deserted by the fishermen, the landlocked waters of the little cove had never seen the track of a boat.
“Who can it be?” continued he; “I see a round hat in the stern-sheets. Look, he is pointing where they are to land him, quite close to our door here.” Stimulated by an irrepressible curiosity, Herbert arose and walked out; but scarcely had he reached the strand when he was met by Colonel Karstairs.
“I could n't trust my gouty ankles down that precipice, doctor,” cried he out; “and although anything but a good sailor, I came round here by water. What a charming spot you have here, when one does reach it!”
“It is pretty; and it is better,—it is solitary,” said Layton, coldly; for somehow he could not avoid connecting the Colonel with a scene very painful to his memory.
“I don't think I ever saw anything more beautiful,” said Karstairs, as he gazed around him. “The wild, fantastic outlines of those rocks, the variegated colors of the heath blossom, the golden strand, and the cottage itself, make up a fairy scene.”
“Let me show you the interior, though it dispel the illusion,” said Layton, as he moved towards the door.
“I hope my visit is not inconvenient,” said Karstairs, as he entered and took a seat; “and I hope, besides, when you hear the object of it, you will, at least, forgive me.” He waited for a reply of some sort, but Layton only bowed his head stiffly, and suffered him to continue: “I am a sorry diplomatist, doctor, and have not the vaguest idea of how to approach a point of any difficulty; but what brought me here this morning was simply this: you sent that letter”—here he drew one from his pocket, and handed it to Layton—“to our friend the rector.”
“Yes; it is my hand, and I left it myself at the parsonage.”