When all the household were assembled at luncheon, he shot his last bolt.
"Now look you here, all of you! We are going to Rockhold to-morrow. I do not wish to have any company there. I am tired of company! I hate company! I am going to the country to get rid of company. So see that you do not, any of you, invite any one to visit us."
The next morning the Rockharrt family left town for North End, where they arrived early in the afternoon.
A monotonous season followed, at least for the two ladies, who led a very secluded life at the dreary old stone house on the mountain side.
Winter, spring, summer and autumn crept slowly away in, the lonely dwelling. In the last days of November he announced to his family, with the usual suddenness of his peremptory will, that he should go to Washington City for the winter, taking with him his wife and granddaughter, and leaving his two sons in charge of the works, and that they would be joined in Washington at Christmas by his grandson, for whom he was about to apply for admission into the military academy at West Point.
Regulas called frequently, and his attentions to Cora were marked.
The Rockharrt party went to Washington on the first of December, and took possession of the suite of rooms previously engaged for them at one of the large West End hotels.
One morning, when Rule was out of the way, being on a canvassing round with Mr. Rockharrt among such members of Congress as had remained in the city, Sylvan suddenly asked his sister:
"Cora, what's to make the pot boil?"
"What do you mean?" inquired the young lady, looking up from "Bleak House," which she was reading.