CHAPTER II.
HERMAN AND ISHMAEL.
With a deep groan he cried—"Oh, gifted one,
I am thy father! Hate me not, my son!"
—Anon.
Nor are my mother's wrongs forgot;
Her slighted love and ruined name,
Her offspring's heritage of shame,
Shall witness for thee from the dead
How trusty and how tender were
Thy youthful love—paternal care!
—Byron.
Her exit was almost immediately followed by the entrance of Mr. Brudenell. He also had noticed Ishmael's condition, and attributed it to overwork, and to the want of rest, with change of air. He was preparing to leave Washington for Brudenell Hall. He was going a few days in advance of Judge Merlin and the Middletons, and he intended to invite Ishmael to accompany him, or to come after him, and make a visit to Brudenell. He earnestly desired to have Ishmael there to himself for a week or two. It was with this desire that he now entered the library.
Ishmael arose from his packing, and, smiling a welcome, set a chair for his visitor.
"You are not looking well, Mr. Worth," said Herman Brudenell, as he took the offered seat.
"I am not well just at present, but I shall be so in a day or two," returned Ishmael.
"Not if you continue the course you are pursuing now, my young friend. You require rest and change of air. I shall leave Washington for Brudenell Hall on Thursday morning. It would give me great pleasure if you would accompany me thither, and remain my guest for a few weeks, to recruit your health. The place is noted for its salubrity; and though the house has been dismantled, and has remained vacant for some time, yet I hope we will find it fitted up comfortably again; for I have written down to an upholsterer of Baymouth to send in some furniture, and I have also written to a certain genius of all trades, called the 'professor,' to go over and see it all arranged, and do what else is needed to be done for our reception."
Ishmael smiled when he heard the name of the professor; but before he could make any comment, Mr. Brudenell inquired: