Lord Bellingham had sent the coach to meet Archy, much to his amusement, as well as Colonel Baskerville's, and as they were bumping along the road through the park the Colonel said, smiling:
"Grandsons are all the rage now. Lord Bellingham has actually condescended to admit that he had a grandson in the continental navy, but he continues to speak of your commission as if your holding it were a mere boyish escapade."
"He does, does he? Poor grandfather! He will know better before he is much older."
"I will say to you, frankly, that Lord Bellingham mortally hates the idea of the title lapsing; and if you will agree to accept it, and to cease to be an American, no doubt your grandfather will make you his heir. But if you stick to your country, as you call it, I am equally sure that Trevor Langton will be the heir—that is, if he is alive, for the latest reports from Gibraltar show that although the loss of life from the bombardment is small, there is an epidemic of fever and scurvy, and, naturally, we are all anxious about Trevor Langton. It is piteous to see his poor mother."
Archy remained silent, distressed by what he had just heard, and Colonel Baskerville continued:
"Langton's mother, my niece, is now staying at Bellingham—the first time her father has recognized her since her marriage. Her two daughters are with her—Mary and Isabel—fine, handsome girls they are."
"If they are anything like Trevor they must be everything they ought to be, for he is the finest fellow: so brave, so gentle, so quiet—so unlike me."
Colonel Baskerville smiled again at this, while Archy went on to explain that he and Langton knew the status of affairs perfectly well. "When we were in the hut at Gibraltar we often talked it over, but it never made the least difference between us. I am an American, and shall remain so, and Trevor will get the money; but I'll never want for it while he lives, and you know I have enough to keep me in clothes and food, candles and fuel, anyhow."
Presently they rattled up to the great pile of Bellingham Castle. But how different was Archy's reception from his first visit! Lord Bellingham had developed a whim, or possibly something better, of liberality and large-heartedness, and it had impelled him to open his house, send for his daughter and her children, and receive Archy in a manner calculated to please a much older and better-balanced person. Lord Bellingham, with all his faults and freaks, was not without feeling. Archy's spirit, intelligence, and strong personal resemblance to Lord Bellingham in his youth had softened the old man's heart. He felt a natural desire that the title should remain in his family, which could only be done by Archy's accepting it. At first he had regarded his grandson's unwillingness to give up his citizenship in his own country as a mere boyish impulse; but he had become convinced that it would take all his powers of persuasion, and all that could dazzle a young and impressionable mind, to induce the boy to become a subject of a king who was so well hated by Americans. Nothing, however, was to be lacking in the way of subtle flattery, and for that reason Archy's reception was imposing. The great hall doors were flung wide open as soon as the coach drew up; an army of servants in livery were drawn up on each side of the entrance, the men on one side, the maids on the other, and Lord Bellingham, elegantly dressed, as usual, and looking like a prince—and, what was more, like a prince in a good-humor—greeted Archy with stately cordiality.
"My grandson! Welcome to Bellingham."