"And you are the greatest little hypocrite that ever lived," replied Mr. Hubbard, with a kindly smile. "Ay, I know you, Bessy. You cannot cheat me." Her face grew crimson; but she answered as briskly as ever:--
"All men think they know women's characters, but they know nothing at all about them; and how should an old bachelor know anything of woman? You had a great deal better marry me, and I will soon show you how well you understand me. We are not within the prohibited degrees, I think, cousin Hubbard, are we? Your great grandmother was my great grandmother's fifteenth cousin on the mother's side, if I recollect rightly; so the doors of the church are open to us, I fancy. But I will look in the prayer-book and see when I get up stairs, and tell you all about it to-morrow, and ask you to fix the day. But, my dear uncle, 'tis very sultry. Let us go into the porch." She was passing through us towards the drawing-room, when I detained her for a moment, to ask if she would not let me hear more distinctly the sweet voice I had heard singing at a distance. She looked up in my face with a quiet smile, saying,--
"I could answer you from the Bible, if I liked; but I will only reply--distance gives softness to everything, Mr. Howard. I will not dispel the illusion."
"How from the Bible?" I asked.
"Nay, nay," she replied; "I must not let my light, idle spirits carry me away into profanity. Sometimes, you know, the words of books we are much accustomed to read, come very aptly to the purpose, though very much out of reason. All I meant to say, that, while I was playing and singing, none of you gentlemen would come in; and now the opera is over I cannot do any more to-night; unless you all like to stand up and have a dance, and then I'll play for you until my fingers ache." Thus saying, she made her way to the door, and went out into the porch of the house. One by one most of the others followed; and I could see the sweet scene lying before the house, with the moonlight resting on the dewy grass, and the fire-flies flashing along the lawn. Even old Mrs. Thornton took her work in her hand, and followed the rest; and I was moving in the same direction, when Mr. Thornton stopped me, saying,--
"I want to talk to you a little." Then, lowering his voice, he added: "It is better that we should have a short conversation to-night upon points which, if I understand rightly, may considerably affect the matter in hand. I may be mistaken in the conclusions I have come to. As far as I have gone, I can have done no harm; but, as my friend Byles there would say, 'A hound that gets on a false scent, may be easily driven back at the beginning; but, if he runs on long, Heaven only knows where he will go to.'"
"I thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Thornton," I replied. "I want advice--I may want assistance; and, above all things, I want what the French would call la carte du pays."
"You shall have it as far as I can give it," said Mr. Thornton. "Just follow me into my little room, and we will have a clear understanding before we sleep." He opened a door at the other side of the parlour, and led the way across a stone hall, where we passed two or three negroes, all apparently as joyous and merry as they could be; but I was too much occupied with thoughts of my own to take the notice of them which I should have taken a day or two before. Consideration had been forced upon me rapidly. I was obliged to come to a conclusion much sooner than I had expected; and the question was, whether I was to place full confidence in my accidental host--to tell him all about myself and my own plans, or only to tell him as much as I could not conceal without ungentlemanly insincerity. His manner, his appearance, his language, were all those of a high-bred gentleman; his establishment was apparently that of a wealthy man; and there was a comfortable, home-like respectability about everything, that induced one to argue thus:--
"A man who has led such a life as this up to his age, is not likely to fall from it or to be subject to degrading and ruinous vices." But the conversation which I had heard between the master of the schooner and the slave-trader, as I came down the Chesapeake, did not connect the name of Thornton with very favourable memories. Before I could make up my mind exactly how to act, we were in the little book-room or library he had mentioned: and he courteously motioned me to a well-stuffed easy chair, while he took another on the opposite side of the table. For a moment an awkward pause ensued; and he then said,--
"Do not let me appear obtrusive or inquisitive; but I think I have the pleasure of speaking to Sir Richard Conway?" I bowed my head, replying,--