“Oh, what a glorious gallop I had. Good morning, Judge Clarkson. How glad I am that you came right over soon as you got home. You are to us a recruit from the world whom we depend on to tell us all about doings there, and it is so good of you.”
“It argues no virtue in a man, Madame, that he comes where beauty greets him,” and the Judge’s bow was a compliment in itself.
“Charming––is it not, Madame McVeigh? Truly your Southern men are the most delightful in the world.”
“Ah, Madame,” and Delaven arose from his chair with a lugubrious countenance, “for how am I to forgive you for adopting the fancy that Ireland is out of the world entirely?”
Judithe laughed frankly and put out her hand; she was exceedingly gay and gracious that morning; there was a delightful exhilaration in her manner, and it was contagious. Matthew Loring half turned in his chair and peered out at the speaker as she turned to Delaven.
“Not out of the world of our hearts, Dr. Delaven, and for yourself, you really should not have been born up where the snow falls. You really belong to the South––we need you here.”
“Faith, it was only a little encouragement I was needing, Marquise. I’ll ask the Judge to prepare my naturalization papers in the morning.”
“Other friends have arrived during your ride, Judithe,” and her hostess led her into the sitting room. “Allow me to present our neighbor, Mr. Loring, of the Loringwood you admired so greatly.”
“And with such good reason,” said Judithe, with gracious bend of her head, and a charming smile. “I have looked forward to meeting you for some time, Mr. Loring, and your estate really appealed to me––it is magnificent. After riding past it I was conscious of coveting my neighbor’s goods.”