The following morning, bright and early, Everet Mapleson was en route to Richmond.
His object was to visit an old lady who resided there, and who knew all about the Maplesons for the last three generations, for he believed she would be able to throw some light on Annie Dale’s history.
She resided in a quiet, old-fashioned street, and her family consisted of one servant, her cat, dog, canary and parrot.
Everet found her in her dining-room, surrounded by her pets, and looking as contented and benignant as if she had been in the midst of as many children.
“Aha!” she exclaimed, looking at his card as Everet followed the servant into the room, “you must be the son of William Mapleson; he married Estelle Everet, and I see they have combined the two names: quite a good idea, young man, and not a badly sounding title, either. And how is my friend, the colonel, your handsome lady mother, too?—at least she was handsome the last time I saw her.”
The young man informed the loquacious old lady that both his parents were well, and were at present enjoying the gayeties of a season at Newport.
“And they’ve left you at home to look after the plantation, eh? That is rather reversing the order of things, isn’t it? Most young people think they must have the good times, while the old people stay at home.”
“No, I have not been left; it was my own preference to remain,” Everet told her. “You know, Miss Southern, I have not been at Vue de l’Eau very much during the last four years, and so it is quite a relief to be at home for a little while.”
“Vue de l’Eau is a grand place, Mr. Mapleson, and I think anybody ought to be happy there,” the old lady observed; “and I’m sure,” she added, with an appreciative glance, “it was very good of you to call upon your father’s old friend. I do not see many young people nowadays.”
Everet colored slightly at this reference to his visit, and it made it a trifle awkward for him, since he did not like to tell her outright, after that, that a selfish interest alone had brought him there.