The dinner bell rang, and I hastened down to be in my place at the table before Mr. Winthrop entered. I opened the door of the pretty breakfast parlor where dinner had been served ever since I came to Oaklands, but the room was silent and empty.
I turned, not very gladly to the great dining-room, which I had somehow fancied was only used on rare occasions. Opening the door I saw the table shining with silver and glass, while Mrs. Flaxman stood surveying the arrangements with an anxious face. "Shall we always dine here?" I asked anxiously.
"Always when Mr. Winthrop is at home; our informal dinners in the cosy breakfast-room are a thing of the past."
"But this seems so formal and grand I shall never enjoy your delicious dishes any more, with Hubert adding to their piquancy with his sarcasms, and witticisms."
"Oh, yes, dear, you will; one gets used to everything in this world, even to planning every day for several courses at dinner," she said with a sigh.
"I wonder why it is necessary to go to so much trouble just for something to eat, when it's all over in a half hour or so, and not any more nutritious than food plainly prepared?"
"The Winthrops have always maintained a well-equipped table. Our Mr. Winthrop would look amazed if we set him down to one of our informal dinners."
"I think he would enjoy them if he once tried them," I said, as I slipped into the place Mrs. Flaxman appointed. A few seconds after Mr. Winthrop entered, followed immediately by Hubert who was quite metamorphosed from the gay, scoffing youth into a steady-paced young man. As the dinner progressed I no doubt looked my surprise at the change; but a meaning glance at Mr. Winthrop was Hubert's mute reply.
While Mr. Winthrop's attention was taken up with his dinner, I took the opportunity of studying more closely this man to whom my dead father had committed so completely the interests and belongings of his only child. The scrutiny was, in some respects, not greatly reassuring. I had noticed as we stood near each other in the conservatory that he was a large man, tall, broad-shouldered and muscular. The face, though handsome, had a cold, stern look that I felt could look at me pitilessly if I incurred his displeasure. But there was also an expression of high, intellectual power; an absorbed, self-contained look that seemed to set him apart from others as one who could live independently, if necessary, of the society of his fellow men. I should like to be his friend, was my thought, as finding that Hubert was watching me, I turned my attention to my neglected dinner. Mrs. Flaxman in her gentle fashion kept the conversation from utterly flagging, although we none of us gave her much help. Unasked she gave a pleasant account of the happenings at Oaklands, the ongoings of his human and dumb dependents; how the Alderneys at her suggestion had been transferred to richer pasturage, and the consequent increase in cream; the immense crop of fruit and vegetables, so much more than they could possibly require, and would it be best to sell the overplus?
"Why not give it to the poor?" I said, eagerly.