“But, grandfather,” exclaimed Esther, “the young people can’t all go to the old people who know the stories. Kate and I didn’t have you, for instance, till a few weeks ago.”
Her grandfather’s face relaxed, and Mr. Philip Hadley looked amused.
“But Deacon Saxon is right,” he said, turning to the young ladies. “It’s a much more delightful thing to hear a story from one who has been a part of it, or remembers those who were, than to get it from the printed page. I fancy the spirit of a thing is much better preserved by oral tradition than by cold print. You remember Sir Walter attributed a good deal of his enthusiasm for Scottish history to the tales of his grandmother. I see you have a charming sketch of Abbotsford,” he added, glancing at a picture on the wall opposite, and from there with a questioning look to Stella.
She gave a pleased nod. “We were sketching in Scotland, a party of us, last summer,” she said.
“Were you?” exclaimed the young man. “I was tramping on the Border myself.”
Perhaps he would have liked to defer his consultation with the old gentleman long enough for a chat with the young lady, but the former was impatient for it now. He had been scrutinizing his caller’s face for the last few moments with sharp attention.
“You say your name is Hadley. Are you any relation to the Hadleys that used to live in our town? There was quite a family of ’em here fifty years ago.”
“I think I am,” said the young man, smiling. “My father was born in Esterly, but moved away before his remembrance. Perhaps you knew my grandfather, Moses Hadley.”
“I knew of him,” said the old gentleman, nodding; “but our family never had much to do with the Hadleys, for they lived on the other side of town. They were good respectable folks,” he added in a ruminating tone; “didn’t care any great about schooling, I guess, but they were master hands for making money. I’ve heard one of ’em made a great fortune somewhere out West. He sent a handsome subscription to our soldiers’ monument.”
The young man, who had flushed distinctly during part of this speech, looked relieved at its conclusion. “That must have been my Uncle Nathan,” he said. “My father went into business in Boston.” Perhaps it was by way of foot-note to the remark about his ancestors’ lack of zeal for learning that he added carelessly: “I remember my cousin came to Esterly once to see your monument. We were in Harvard together at the time.”