But that gentleman was too engaged at that moment to reply, even if he would have condescended so to do. Just now, in the presence of Mrs. Calvert, whose mere name was a certificate of “quality,” he felt himself an aristocrat, quite too exalted in life to notice a poor captain of a house-boat.
Breakfast over, Aunt Betty excused herself and withdrew to the shelter of her little stateroom. Shelter it really was, now, against her uninvited guest. She had done her best to make his early call agreeable and to satisfy him with more substantial things than old memories. They had discussed all the prominent Maryland families, from the first Proprietor down to that present day; had discovered a possible relationship, exceedingly distant, he being the discoverer; and had talked of their beloved state in its past and present glories till she was utterly worn out.
He had again “given” her his most cherished possession, Billy the mule; and she had again declined to receive it. Buy him, of course, Dorothy would and should, if it proved that a mule was really needed. But not without fair payment for the animal would she permit “him” to become a member of her family. The Colonel so persistently spoke of the creature as a human being that she began to think of Billy as a monstrosity.
The morning passed. Aunt Betty had deserted, and Dorothy had to take her place as hostess. All her heart was longing for the green shore beyond that little wharf, where now all the other young folks were having a lively frolic. It was such a pity to waste that glorious sunshine just sitting in that little cabin talking to a dull old man.
He did little talking himself. Indeed, warmed by the sunshine on the deck where he sat, and comfortably satisfied with a more generous meal than he had enjoyed for many months, the Colonel settled back on the steamer chair which was Aunt Betty’s own favorite and went to sleep. He slept so long and quietly that she was upon the point of leaving him, reflecting:
“Even a Calvert ought not to have to stay here now, and watch an old man—snore. It’s dreadful, sometimes, to have a ‘family name.’ Living up to it is such a tax. I wish—I almost wish—I was just a Smith, Jones, Brown, or anybody! I will run away, just for a minute, sure! and see what happens!”
But, despite the snores, the visitor was a light sleeper. At her first movement from her own chair, he awoke and actually smiled upon her.
“Beg pardon, little lady. I forgot where I was and just lost myself. Before I dropped off I was goin’ to tell you—Pshaw! I cayn’t talk. I enjoy quiet. D’ye happen to see Billy, anywhere?”
“Certainly. He’s right over on that bank yonder and the boys are trying to fix a rope to his harness, so he can begin to draw the boats up stream. They want to try and see if it will work. Funny! To turn this lovely Water Lily into a mere canal-boat. But I suppose we can still have some good times even that way.”
The Colonel shook his head.