“I have no home,” said Herbert. “My father and mother are both dead.”
“Excuse me,” said the lady, gently. “I am sorry to have touched upon a subject which must awaken sorrowful recollections. My father's name is Carroll. Father, you have heard that your young escort is Mr. Herbert Mason.”
The old gentleman extended his hand, which Herbert took respectfully.
“I am afraid you will find me a troublesome charge,” he said. “Since I have become blind I have been compelled to tax the kindness of others.”
“The journey will be pleasanter to me,” said Herbert, politely, “than if I were alone.”
Mr. Carroll was evidently pleased with this remark, for he turned toward Herbert with increased interest.
“You can imagine how much more so it will be to me,” he said. “I have not your resources for beguiling the tedium of the way. I would give all my possessions gladly, for your young eyes. All journeys are alike to me now, since, however interesting the scenery, it is a blank to me.”
“That is indeed a privation, sir.”
“Especially in the journey we are about to take. The Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, as it is called, runs through a romantic and charming country, and affords views at once bold and beautiful. Have you ever traveled over the road?”
“No, sir.”