Cameron looked at him curiously.
“If he comes to Yale,” he thought, “and puts on these airs, he'll be taken down without ceremony.”
“Oh, indeed!” he said aloud, dryly.
“Are you going to stay here long?” asked James.
“I can't say how long. I am here for my health.”
“You must come and see us. My father will be very glad to see you. My aunt has written us about you.”
“Indeed! May I ask your aunt's name?”
“Her name is Davenport—Mrs. John Davenport. She lives in New Haven.”
“Oh, yes, I have met her.”
Cameron smiled to himself. The lady referred to was not unlike her brother and nephew, being pompous and presuming—one, indeed, whom he secretly disliked.