“He is the son of a squatter.”
“You have been one, but if you keep your word, and this land is paid for, you will not be a squatter.”
“I suppose Clarence followed the girl to New York, believing she'll marry him. I thought he would have more sense.”
“If he did follow her, he would also be following his father's example.”
Mr. Darrell blushed, but he smiled, for he was pleased. The recollection of that tender episode of loving devotion was always very sweet to him. It had been a folly of which he was proud to cherish the memory.
But Mr. Darrell did not pursue the subject any further this time; he felt he would be defeated if he continued it; it was best to beat a masterly retreat before he was routed. He made an orderly march toward the stable, and Mrs. Darrell, remaining master of the field, busied herself with her flower garden, where Alice presently joined her.
“Mamma dear, I overheard your conversation with papa; I hope you won't let him quarrel with the Don.”
“I shall do my best to prevent it, but you see, he has all the settlers at his heels all the time worrying him about their claims. Any one might suppose that he induced them to come here, instead of being induced by them. Since they heard that their appeal was dismissed, they have openly said to him that they rely entirely upon his assistance to retain their homes. This pleases him, it flatters him, but it is a piece of hypocrisy on their part, because the Don is too kind-hearted to eject them. Clarence says that the Don will let them keep their homesteads, on the sole condition that they put up fences to keep his cattle off.”
“Can anything be more kind and generous?”
“But all his kindness is thrown away.”