“Is it possible!” she cried. “Mr. Ferdinand! The dear, dear child!” She seized one of his hands and kissed it, but he drew it away, and putting an arm about her shoulders, stooped to kiss her wrinkled cheek. “The grandson,” she cried, turning on the others with an air of pride and tender triumph, “of my dear mistress, Lady De Blacquaire. I nursed Mr. Ferdinand in his infancy. I bore him to the font, and in my arms he received his baptismal appellation.”
If she had laid claim to the loftiest of worldly distinctions she could scarcely have done it with a greater air of pride.
Ezra's tremulous fingers were still at work at the violin keys when Ruth addressed him.
“I dare say you know my aunt Rachel, Mr. Gold,” she said. “Heydon Hay was such a little place five-and-twenty years ago that everybody must have known everybody.”
“It was my privilege to know Miss Blythe when she lived here,” said Ezra, looking up and speaking in a veiled murmur.
The little old lady started, turned pale, drew herself to her full height, and turned away. Sennacherib, who was watching the pair, drove out his clinched fist sideways with intent to nudge his brother Isaiah in the ribs, to call his attention to this incident as a confirmation of the history he had told the night before. He miscalculated his distance, and landed on Isaiah's portly waistcoat with such force that the milder brother grunted aloud, and, arising, demanded with indignation to know why he was thus assaulted. For a mere second Sennacherib was disconcerted, but recovering himself, he drew Isaiah on one side and whispered in his ear,
“I on'y meant to gi'e thee a nudge, lad. Dost mind what I tode thee about 'em? Didst tek note how they met?”
“Thinkest thou'rt th' only man with a pair of eyes in his head?” demanded Isaiah, angrily and aloud. Sennacherib, by winks and nods and gestures, entreated him to silence, but for a minute or two Isaiah refused to be pacified, and sat rubbing at his waistcoat and darting looks of vengeance at his brother. “Punchin' a man at my time o' life i' that way!” he mumbled wrathfully; “it's enough t' upset the systim for a month or more.”
Nobody noticed the brethren, however, for the other members of the little party had each his or her preoccupation.
“Mr. Ferdinand,” said Miss Blythe, turning suddenly upon the young gentleman, “I must seize this opportunity to ask what news there is of my dear mistress. I know that she is frail, and that correspondence would tax her energies too severely, but I make a point of writing to her once a week and presenting to her my respectful service.”