"Really, sir, I feared——"
"Pooh!—pshaw!—nonsense!—no, you did not. 'Innocence is bold; but the guilty flee-eth when no one pursues,' as Solomon says. What were you afraid of? S'pose everybody told you I was a demon incarnate—confound their impudence! But I ain't; no, sir! 'The devil's not as black as he's painted,' as Solomon says—or if he didn't say it, he ought to."
"Indeed, sir, I should be sorry to think of my father's old friend in any such way, I beg to assure you."
"No, you won't—haven't time. Come up to Mount Sunset—come, right off! Must, sir—no excuse; Liz'll be delighted to see you. Come—come—come along!"
"Since you insist upon it, squire, I shall do myself the pleasure of accepting your invitation."
"Yes, yes—to be sure you will!" again interrupted the impatient squire. "Bless my heart!—and you're little Barry. Well, well!"
"I am Barry, certainly," said the young man, smiling; "but whether the adjective 'little' is well applied or not, I feel somewhat doubtful. I have a dim recollection of measuring some six feet odd inches when I left home."
"Ha, ha, ha!—to be sure! to be sure!" laughed the lusty old squire. "Little!—by Jove! you're a head and shoulders taller than I am myself. Yes, sir—true as gospel. 'Bad weeds grow fast,' as Solomon says. Lord! won't my Liz be astonished, though?"
"I hope your daughter is quite well, squire."
"Well!—you'd better believe it. My daughter is never sick. No, sir; got too much sense—specially Liz. Esther always was a simpleton—ran away, and all that, before she was out of her bibs and tuckers. Both died—knew they would. 'The days of the transgressors shall be short on the earth,' as Solomon says. But Liz has got her eye-teeth cut. Smart girl, my Liz."