"I hope her longing for home was not of the same nature as that which a hand-organ inspires, Mrs. Estill."
"No, indeed, Mr. Warlow; but you will excuse my faulty compliment, and only remember that I've been totally isolated from society for a quarter of a century, and am apt to say the wrong thing in the right place."
"There she goes again!" the face of Mrs. Warfield seemed to say; but Clifford only answered with polite gravity:—
"Thank you, Mrs. Estill. I shall never forget that you are very kind; and if Mrs. Warfield will promise not to leave at once we will proceed with the singing," he added, with a twinkle of humor in his blue eyes.
"I will promise to stay as long as you are singing a tenor like an alpine horn," replied Mrs. Warfield, graciously.
"Well! good-bye, then?" said Clifford, as he joined the singers; and soon his voice was heard, clear and ringing, like the soft tones of a church-bell in some quiet mountain valley—pealing out with soaring, crystal notes, or floating down the wind with a vibrant, thrilling sweetness, that caused even the garrulous major to pause and say at the end:—
"Why, pon honah, Miss Estill, this young Warlow is a wonderful singah; indeed he quite reminds me of Mario, the enchanting, velvet-toned tennah, you know, whom I often have heard at the grand opera—aw—in delightful Paree. What a pity that he is—aw—only a pooah homesteadah, or was until of late, I heah."
"I am certain he is an earnest, industrious gentleman at all times, Major," said Miss Estill, with just enough reproof in her tone to cause the dissolute aristocrat to wince; then, pausing, only to see that her arrow had hit the mark, she continued:—
"His father was a wealthy planter who was ruined financially by the war; but we certainly respect the energy that has enabled him to repair his fortunes and found such a delightful home, as you will find the Warlow homestead to be. His example should encourage others to a similar course, instead of remaining in the overcrowded East or South to struggle along, hopelessly, amid the scenes of their misfortune."
"Ah! indeed—a plantah before the wah? Why, really, that is another mattah, Miss Estill. My fathah was also a plantah; but when the wah began he sold his niggahs and left Kentuckah, but finally returned and located thah again."