“‘Boy?’ ‘Like?’ He is like the Apollo Belvedere, or like the Colossus of Rhodes. A superb, a stupendous fellow. But all dressed in hides like a North American Indian, or a prehistoric Norseman. But come and see!” said Mr. Campbell, leading the way to the study.
Hetty followed, now half anxious, half afraid to see the savage.
As they entered Longman, seeing the lady, arose, bowed and handed a chair with so much ease, dignity and grace that Mrs. Campbell was surprised, pleased and reassured.
“Mr. Longman, this lady is my wife. She will entertain you while I go to your mother,” said the curate.
Longman bowed more profoundly than before, and murmured something to the effect that he was most honored and grateful to be permitted to make the lady’s acquaintance; but the hunter was always shy in the society of gentlewomen.
Then Mr. Campbell, knowing that Hetty could give the prodigal son more satisfactory information about his mother in five minutes than any other creature could in five years, went out and left them together.
He passed through the parlor and opened the kitchen door. He saw Elspeth sitting before the stove, knitting, while she waited for her muffins to bake.
“Will you come into the parlor for a moment? I wish to speak to you, Mrs. Longman,” said the curate.
“Yes, sir,” replied the woman, rising and untying her kitchen apron, which she took off and hung over the back of her chair. Then she went into the parlor.
“Take Mrs. Campbell’s rocking-chair while we talk. Save your back whenever you can, Mrs. Longman.”