"No, not too late, if you regret the step. The blame for what has been done is all ours, and no part of it would rest on your head," he answered, kindly.
"I don't regret it, but I'm sorry for Aunt Jane," I answered; for, however loth I was to live with her, she was entitled to my respect, if not my love. So much, I thought, I owed my father's memory.
"Well, you may be sorry," Mr. Seymour answered. "We all admire your aunt, and if she would unbend a little and let her face relax into a smile on occasion, she would be a most attractive and lovable woman; but immersed in her thoughts, and formal of manner because of it, she is like the icebergs one sometimes meets in midocean, she is so cold and inaccessible."
"It's her way, and doesn't mean anything, mother always said," I answered.
"Perhaps so; but age does not change or soften her way, as it does most people. Your Uncle Job may not prove as watchful a guardian as she would have been, Gilbert, but your heart will be the warmer and your figure the more supple for the freedom," Mr. Seymour went on.
"I'm sure I shall be content," I answered, looking at Constance, not finding it in my heart to say I could be happy with any one away from her.
"He will never have any other company save yours, nor desire for any. So you are likely to see a good deal of him, and always to your betterment, I am sure," Mr. Seymour answered.
"Why do you say that, Henry?" Uncle Job asked, looking up in surprise.
"Because you are destined to be an old bachelor, Job," Mr. Seymour answered, "and of this I am sure. Charles, Gilbert's father, used to say the same. You lack time and inclination to find a mate, and more's the pity. In such company, Gilbert," he went on, "your craft must hug the shore or sail into the open, as fate decides; but wherever wind and tide may take you, here is hoping you may have a prosperous voyage," and Mr. Seymour raised a glass of wine to his lips, and much to my astonishment, bowed to me as if I were a man grown. He was, however, always surprising those about him in some such pleasant way. Indeed, I thought his bearing so fine that for him to single out any one for notice was a distinction to be remembered and be proud of ever afterward. Thus strongly does kindliness and courtesy of speech ever impress the young or inexperienced in life.
"We all want to join in that toast, Henry," Uncle Job broke in, reaching for a goblet of water that stood beside his plate.