Six months before, the fire of war had entered Esterbrook's veins, and he, the veteran of a militia regiment, had almost broken away to join a company of his old comrades as a minor officer; but even here he was rebuffed and turned back by something wrong with his heart action that his physician discovered at the last moment. Consequently, at fifty odd, William Esterbrook, whom Miss Emmy called Willy, and Miss Felton, cousin Esterbrook, though a very well-preserved man, who had no need as yet to use either hair tonic or other toilet accessories, was possessed by a sort of self-consciousness and a certain agitated courtesy of manner.
A married man of this age usually has relaxed his tension through natural processes; a confirmed bachelor, living in his own apartments, takes his ease because there is nothing to goad him to do otherwise; but for Esterbrook, he was still living in the play that had absorbed his youth without realizing that it was a play, and sometimes he was horribly bored.
In personal appearance he had a style quite his own. At a time of beards and many whiskers, low collar, and loose tie, he kept a clean-shaven face and still affected a modified stock. His coat—except in the evening, a Prince Albert—had a decided waist line; he wore spats that broke the plainness of the customary high boots of the time, and his taste in waistcoats was as refined as it was fanciful. After all, it was the hat that was the most distinguishing characteristic of his apparel. This was of the softest beaver, brushed until it shone like silk; the crown of moderate height was belled out at the top and the brim curled well at the sides. In the crown of this he invariably carried his right-hand glove, the left being always in place and neatly buttoned. This habit came of the old-time courtesy of either removing the glove when shaking hands with ladies or apologizing for its presence. Once Esterbrook had removed the glove with graceful ceremony before extending his well-shaped hand. Now?—well, he was a bit weary of manners and customs, so that the offending glove lived in his hat.
About ten o'clock on the morning after the Feltons' arrival Miss Emmy and Mr. Esterbrook were seen walking on the road that ran from Quality Hill down to Westboro. Many heads looked out of windows and nodded, and not a few hands were extended over gates by way of greeting, together with bits of local news, either offered at random or for exchange.
"Had the ladies heard of the lady baby left at old Oliver Gilbert's, and his preposterous idea of keeping her?" asked the farrier's wife, who had been one of the many helpers who had married from Felton Manor.
"Had they seen Miss Marcia Duane, John Angus's intended, and was she as handsome and rich as folks said? Able to wind him, who had never before bent head or knees, around her little finger? And if so, why did she take a man old enough to be her father?"
"Why?" said Mr. Esterbrook, with his jauntiest air. "John Angus and myself are nearly of an age, and I'm not yet out of the running."
"Oh! Mr. Esterbrook, present company is always suspected, and then I'm sure no one ever thinks how old you are; you've always been just the same," said the farrier's wife.
Yes, always the same, a house cat by the fire; the bitter thought flashed through his brain, yet the next moment he was stooping courteously to disentangle Miss Emmy's parasol from the fringe of her silk mantilla. Then they proceeded along the street, Miss Emmy's full skirt of gray chiné silk, with its bordered flounces of pink roses, rustling as it swung about her, buoyed out by many petticoats, for this dainty lady followed the fashion without the use of what she considered the unnecessary vulgarity of a harsh and unmanageable hoop-skirt.
Little Mrs. Latimer ran out to remind her friend that the Hospital Aid Society would meet at the Rectory that afternoon, and did she suppose that dear Miss Felton would come and say something to the ladies about the necessity of rolling the bandages straight, as Dr. Morewood had said that to expect an army surgeon in a hurry to use a long bandage rolled loosely on the bias, was simply to invite a lesson in profanity.