Meanwhile Harry and Jacques continued to pace quietly before the house, waiting patiently until the first ebullition of feeling, at the meeting of Charley with his father and sister, should be over. In a few minutes Charley ran out.
“Hollo, Harry! come in, my boy; forgive my forgetfulness, but—”
“My dear fellow,” interrupted Harry, “what nonsense you are talking! Of course you forgot me, and everybody and everything on earth, just now; but have you seen Kate? is—”
“Yes, yes,” cried Charley, as he pushed his friend before him, and dragged Jacques after him into the parlour.—“Here’s Harry, father, and Jacques.—You’ve heard of Jacques, Kate?”
“Harry, my, dear boy;” cried Mr. Kennedy, seizing his young friend by the hand; “how are you, lad? Better, I hope.”
At that moment Mr. Kennedy’s eye fell on Jacques, who stood in the doorway, cap in hand, with the usual quiet smile lighting up his countenance.
“What! Jacques—Jacques Caradoc!” he cried, in astonishment.
“The same, sir; you an’ I have know’d each other afore now in the way o’ trade,” answered the hunter, as he grasped his old bourgeois by the hand and wrung it warmly. Mr. Kennedy, senior, was so overwhelmed by the combination of exciting influences to which he was now subjected, that he plunged his hand into his pocket for the handkerchief again, and pulled out the fur hat instead, which he flung angrily at the cat; then using the sleeve of his coat as a substitute, he proceeded to put a series of abrupt questions to Jacques and Charley simultaneously.
In the meantime Harry went up to Kate and stared at her. We do not mean to say that he was intentionally rude to her. No! He went towards her intending to shake hands, and renew acquaintance with his old companion; but the moment he caught sight of her he was struck not only dumb, but motionless. The odd part of it was that Kate, too, was affected in precisely the same way, and both of them exclaimed mentally, “Can it be possible?” Their lips, however, gave no utterance to the question. At length Kate recollected herself, and blushing deeply, held out her hand, as she said,—
“Forgive me, Har—Mr. Somerville; I was so surprised at your altered appearance, I could scarcely believe that my old friend stood before me.”