Closed to ruder buffetings, is it only to the sesame of a sad voice those portals spring magically back? But for his sake she must needs pause on the threshold of attainment, and stifle that ambition which of itself precluded consideration of a calm, uneventful existence. She was young and full of courage, but the pathos of his years smote her heart; something inexplicable had awakened her fears for him; she believed him far from well of late, although he laughed at her apprehensions and protested he had never been better in his life.
Now, reading the anxiety in his face as he watched her, she smiled reassuringly, her glance, full of love, meeting his.
“Everything shall be as you wish,” she said, softly. “You know what is best!”
The manager’s face lighted perceptibly, but before he could answer, the door opened, and Culver, the attorney, entered. With ruddy countenance and youthful bearing, in antithesis to the hair, silvered with white, he was one of those southern gentlemen who grow old gracefully. The law was his taskmaster; he practised from a sense of duty, but ever held that those who rushed to court were likely to repeat the experience of Voltaire, who had twice been ruined: once when he lost a law suit; the second time, when he won one! Nevertheless, people persisted in coming to Culver wantonly welcoming unknown ills.
“Well, Miss Carew,” he now exclaimed, after 392 warmly greeting his visitors, “have you disburdened yourself of prejudice against this estate? Wealth may be a little hardship at first, but soon you won’t mind it.”
“Not a bit!” spoke up Barnes. “It’s as easy to get used to as––poverty, and we’ve had plenty of that!”
“You know the other condition?” she said, half-defiantly, half-sadly. “You are to be with me always.”
“How can you teach an old dog new tricks?” protested Barnes. “How can you make a fine man about town out of a ‘heavy father?’”
“The ‘heavy father’ is my father. I never knew any other. I am glad I never did.”
“Hoity-toity!” he exclaimed scoffingly, but pleased nevertheless.