On going down stairs they found the lower room neatly arranged, and breakfast ready for them—hot coffee, corn pone, hot rolls, rashers of fried bacon, eggs, potatoes, etc. And there, in the arm-chair, in a clean homespun suit, sat the old man, looking as calm, as self-possessed, as noble and venerable as a Roman senator. He arose and bowed to the gentlemen, and offered his chair to one of them.
No wonder it bowed the young girl’s head with grief and shame—it pained and humbled even these strangers, to know that this most reverend white-haired patriarch was often transformed by drunkenness into the beast! It was a disease, Kate had often said, wringing her hands with anguish, while seeing his degradation.
It was a disease, and never till vice is treated as such, will an effectual remedy be applied.
Immediately after breakfast, the gentlemen took leave of the family, and mounted their horses to pursue their journey. Frank, in the thoughtless kindness of his heart, would have offered the poor people some remuneration for their entertainment, but Clifton, who knew the habits and feelings of the mountaineers better, arrested a purpose that might have given offence. But on parting with Carl Kavanagh, Captain Clifton expressed his thanks for the hospitality that had been extended to himself and friend—adding, that if he could then, or at any time, in any manner, be of use to his kind host, he should be happy to serve him, etc., etc. To this the young man replied—
“I thank you, sir. I know Captain Clifton by report, and feel that I can trust to his generosity. I have a heavy care—my young sister. If you could hear of a place at service for her among the honorable ladies of your family or acquaintance, I should feel very grateful indeed, sir.”
Captain Clifton kindly gave his promise to make inquiries. Frank again shook hands with Carl, bowed to Kate, nodded to the old man through the window, and then the travellers turned from the door of the mountain hut, cantered briskly up the glen, and took the road to White Cliffs.
CHAPTER II.
CLIFTON AND THE BEAUTIES.
“Against the cliffs
See’st thou not where the mansion stands? The moonbeam
Strikes on the granite column, and tall trees