"How long since you have seen him?"
"I have never seen him—at least not since I was an infant, if then. My parents left me to his care. I have spent my life in schools until six or seven years ago, when, after graduating at Harvard and then at Columbia college in law, I went abroad. Have never seen so much as the picture of my uncle. I applied to him for one through his New York lawyer once, sending a new one of myself, and he replied that he had too much respect for art to have his taken."
"That sounds like him," and Montjoy laughed heartily. "He was a florid, sandy-haired man, with eyes always half-closed against the light, stout and walked somewhat heavily. He has been a famous criminal lawyer, but for many years has not seemed to care for practice. He was a heavy drinker, but with all that you could rely implicitly upon what he said. He left a large property, I presume?"
"So I infer." Edward looked out of the window, but presently resumed the conversation.
"My uncle stood well in the community, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes; we have lost a good citizen. Do you expect to make your home with us?"
"That depends upon circumstances. Very likely I shall."
"I see! Well, sir, I trust you will. The Morgan place is a nice one and has been closed to the young people too long."
"I am afraid they will not find me very gay." A shadow flitted over his face, blotting out the faint smile.
The towns and villages glided away.