“It used to be considered one of the finest places in the State,” said the colonel.
“It is still,” rejoined the host. “Doctor, you know him?”
“I think not,” said Dr. Sevier; but somehow he recalled the old gentleman in button gaiters, who had called on him one evening to consult him about his sick wife.
“A good man,” said the colonel, looking amused; “and a superb gentleman. Is he as great a partisan of the church as he used to be?”
“Greater! Favors an established church of America.”
The ladies were much amused. The host’s son, a young fellow with sprouting side-whiskers, said he thought he could be quite happy with one of the finest plantations in Kentucky, and let the church go its own gait.
“Humph!” said the father; “I doubt if there’s ever a happy breath drawn on the place.”
“Why, how is that?” asked the colonel, in a cautious tone.
“Hadn’t he heard?” The host was surprised, but spoke low. “Hadn’t he heard about the trouble with their only son? Why, he went abroad and never came back!”
Every one listened.