Had Jacob Drummond died, Joshua would have borne the loss with the greatest fortitude. Of that there was no doubt. Indeed, he would rather have hailed the event with joy, if, as he expressed it, the "old man did the right thing," and left him the bulk of his property. Though such feelings did not do Joshua much credit, it must be said in extenuation that his father was far from being a man to inspire affection in any one, however nearly related.
At five o'clock they sat down to supper.
"I hope, Mr. Conrad," said Jacob, "you will be able to relish our humble repast."
"Humble again!" thought Walter. He was about to say that everything looked very nice, when Joshua broke in.
"If you call this humble, I don't know what you'd say to the suppers we commonly have."
Mr. Drummond, who desired, for this day, at least, to keep up appearances, frowned with vexation.
"Joshua," he said, "I desire that you will act in a more gentlemanly way, or else leave the table."
As leaving the table on the present occasion would have been, indeed, a deprivation, Joshua thought it wise not to provoke his father too far, at any rate until after he had made sure of his supper. He therefore left most of the conversation to his father.
"Have you ever been in Stapleton before, Mr. Conrad?" asked Mr. Drummond.