"I am a friend of one of them already," answered the stranger, holding out his hand to the lad. "This is the young gentleman who told me that I should find the only house within ten miles about this spot, and his father willing to receive me, though he did not say that I should find a gem in the wilderness, and a gentleman in these wild woods."
"It has been a foolish fancy, perhaps," said the master of the house, "to carry almost into the midst of savage life some remnants of civilization. We keep the portraits of dead friends--a lock of hair--a trinket--a garment of the loved and departed. The habits and the ornaments of another state of society are to me like those friends, and I long to have some of their relics near me."
"Oh, my dear father," said Edith, seating herself by him and leaning her head upon his bosom, without timidity or restraint, "you could never do without them. I remember when we were coming hither, now three years ago, that you talked a great deal of free, unshackled existence; but I knew quite well, even then, that you could not be content till you had subdued the rough things around you to a more refined state."
"What made you think so, Edith?" asked her father, looking down at her with a smile.
"Because you never could bear the parson of the parish drinking punch and smoking tobacco pipes," answered the beautiful girl, with a laugh; "and I was quite sure that it was not more savage life you sought, but greater refinement."
"Oh, yes, my father," added the lad; "and you often said, when we were in England, that the red Indian had much more of the real gentleman in him than many a peer."
"Dreams, dreams," said their father, with a melancholy smile; and then, turning to the stranger, he added: "You see, sir, how keenly our weaknesses are read by even children. But come, Edith, our friend must be hungry with his long ride; see and hasten the supper. Our habits are primeval here, sir, like our woods. We follow the sun to bed, and wake with him in the morning."
"They are good habits," answered the stranger, "and such as I am accustomed to follow much myself. But do not, I pray you, hasten your supper for me. I am anything but a slave of times and seasons. I can fast long, and fare scantily, without inconvenience."
"And yet you are an Englishman," answered the master of the house, gravely, "a soldier, or I mistake; a man of station, I am sure; though all three would generally infer, as the world goes at this present time, a fondness for luxurious ease and an indulgence of all the appetites."
A slight flush came into his young companion's cheek, and the other hastened to add: "Believe me, I meant nothing discourteous. I spoke of the Englishman, the soldier, and the man of rank and station generally, not of yourself. I see it is far otherwise with you."