Mr. Richards received his wife’s relative with every appearance of cordiality, although there was a restraint in his manner which could be felt rather than explained.
“Ah, Uncle Jacob!” he said, as he shook him by the hand and took his hat from him; “we hardly thought you could arrive quite so soon. I should have looked for you to-morrow, however. Sit down—sit down; and, John,” turning to the man who had shown him in, “tell Mrs. Blunt to fix up a nice little supper and send it in here on a tray.”
“Don’t put yourself out, George; anything will do for to-night. I am more tired than hungry,” the old man said, sinking into a luxurious chair with a weary sigh, and removing the green shade entirely from his eyes.
Mr. Richards fidgeted and looked uneasy.
He knew that there was not a room in the house that his wife would give up; every one had been arranged for company who were expected or had already arrived, and he was at his wits’ end to know what to do with him.
“Uncle Jacob” poor and ill was an entirely different character from “Uncle Jacob” rich and prosperous.
But he sat chatting socially with him until Mrs. Blunt appeared with a tray and served a tempting little meal, which the old gentleman ate with evident relish.
“I was more hungry than I thought,” he said, when at length he had finished his second cup of tea, eaten the leg of a chicken and a couple of rolls. “Now, if you please, I should like to be shown to my room, for I have traveled a long distance to-day. But—where is Ellen? I should like to exchange greetings with her before I go.”
“Ahem!” began Mr. Richards, feeling extremely uncomfortable. “Ellen has a house full of company to-night; if you could excuse her, and wait until to-morrow——”
“Certainly—certainly,” the old man said, hastily, but in a disappointed tone; for his niece had always been the first to greet him and express her delight at his coming heretofore.