When he had arranged everything in an orderly manner, Clifford tied the cover on the box, after which he arose to go.
"I am very glad that we have had this explanation, Squire Talford," he thoughtfully remarked, "for I never could understand why I was such an object of aversion to you. I sincerely regret that I should have been the innocent cause of so much discomfort to you; but let me say now, as it is probable we shall never meet again after you leave Washington, that you need give yourself no uneasiness for the future, for no one shall ever learn from me the relationship that exists between us."
"Humph! and you really mean, too, that you will never tell your father that you have learned you are his son and can prove the fact?"
"Never. I have no wish ever to meet the man again," Clifford returned with decision.
"Suppose he should some day approach you upon the subject?"
"That is a different matter, though I think it is not a supposable case; he has too much at stake to care to agitate so serious a subject. I hope our long talk has not wearied you and that you will still continue to improve as rapidly as I am glad to see you have been during the last few days."
"Yes, I am getting along finely, and we are going home the first of next week," the squire observed, but with his eyes downcast in a thoughtful mood.
"Ah! I was not aware you had set the day; but no doubt you will be far more comfortable in your pleasant home at Cedar Hill. I trust, if there is anything I can do for you in a business way, or otherwise, before you go, you will command me. Now, as I have an engagement, I must go. Good night."
"Good night," briefly returned the man, but without looking up, and Clifford quietly left the room. He met Maria in the hall.
"Waal, you've got it," she observed, and glancing significantly at the box in his hands.