"Take me out to the fields, sometime," said Parkington, "and show me more about it—of the cultivation, I mean."
"I will be glad to, sir, very glad, indeed. You will excuse me, now, I must dress for breakfast."
Parkington sauntered to a nearby bench and sat down. He was not quite satisfied with the result of his early morning walk—he was not so sure it would not have been better to decline Marbury's confidences. It might have been difficult to do, and it might have offended him, but, it would have been wiser, in the end. The offense could not have lasted, and, after the moment, Marbury would thank him for it. As it was, he would likely hold it in mind. It was only human nature. Of course, his being an Englishman and a foreigner might prevent, but that was scarcely possible. His one chance was to regain Marbury's confidence by showing great interest in the plantation, and all that concerned it. Good—he would show it....
He glanced up, to see Captain Herford coming toward him.
"The top of the morning, to you, Captain," he said; "I hope I see you well."
"I do not know how you see me," said the other, shortly. "It depends on your eyesight."
"And that tells me," said Parkington, indifferently amused, "that you are out of sorts. Better go down to the river and take a cold bath—there is nothing like a cold bath, Herford, to put one in tune with the morning."
"You have tried it, I apprehend," ironically.
"No, there was no need—I am always in tune."
"And, hence, particularly able to look after those of us who are not," Herford sneered. "Has it ever occurred to you that it is a bit gratuitous?"