“Of course you are, if you want to hear; his name is there, on the corner of his note,—Robt M'Gruder,—and here's the inside of it, though I don't think you 'll be much the wiser when you 've read it.”
“It's for yourself to read your own letter, Tony,” said she, waving back the note. “I merely asked who was your correspondent.”
Tony broke the seal, and ran his eye hastily over the lines. “I 'm as glad as if I got a hundred pounds!” cried he. “Listen to this, mother:—
“'Dear Sir,—When I received your note on Monday—'
“But wait a bit, mother; I must tell you the whole story, or you 'll not know why he wrote this to me. Do you remember my telling you, just at the back of a letter, that I was carried off to a dinner at Richmond?”
“Yes, perfectly.”
“Well, I wish I hadn't gone, that's all. Not that it was n't jolly, and the fellows very pleasant and full of fun, but somehow we all of us took too much wine, or we talked too much, or perhaps both; but we began laying wagers about every imaginable thing, and I made a bet,—I 'll be hanged if I could tell what it was; but it was something about Dolly Stewart. I believe it was that she was handsomer than another girl. I forgot all about her hair being cut off, and her changed looks. At all events, off we set in a body, to M'Gruder's house. It was then about two in the morning, and we all singing, or what we thought was singing, most uproariously. Yes, you may shake your head. I 'm ashamed of it now, too, but it was some strange wine—I think it was called Marcobrunner—that completely upset me; and the first thing that really sobered me was seeing that the other fellows ran away, leaving me all alone in the garden, while a short stout man rushed out of the house with a stick to thrash me. I tried to make him hear me, for I wanted to apologize; but he wouldn't listen, and so I gave him a shake. I didn't strike him; but I shook him off, roughly enough perhaps, for he fell, and then I sprang over the gate, and cut off as fast as I could. When I awoke next morning, I remembered it all, and heartily ashamed I was of myself; and I thought that perhaps I ought to go out in person and beg his pardon; but I had no time for that; I wanted to get away by that day's packet, and so I wrote him a few civil lines. I don't remember them exactly, but they were to say that I was very sorry for it all, and I hoped he 'd see the thing as it was,—a stupid bit of boyish excess, of which I felt much ashamed; and here's his answer:—
“'Dear Sir,—When I received your note on Monday morning,
I was having leeches to my eye, and could n't answer it.
Yesterday both eyes were closed, and it is only to-day that
I can see to scratch these lines. If I had had a little more
patience on the night I first met you, it would have been
better for both of us. As it is, I receive all your
explanation as frankly as it is given; and you 'll be lucky
in life if nobody bears you more ill-will than—Yours
truly,
'Robt. M'Gruder.
“'If you come up to town again, look in on me at 27 Cannon
Street, City. I do not say here, as Mrs. M'G, has not yet
forgiven the black eye.'”
“Oh, Tony! my own, dear, dear, true-hearted Tony!” cried his mother, as she flung her arms around him, and hugged him to her heart “I knew my own dear boy was as loyal as his own high-hearted father.”
Tony was exceedingly puzzled to what precise part of his late behavior be owned all this enthusiastic fondness, and was curious also to know if giving black eyes to Scotchmen had been a trait of his father's.