But not for long. Two passengers on foot came forward by-and-by, their footsteps audible in the sensitive quiet, while yet themselves were scarce visible in the gloom, and the fumes of their cigars tainting the sweetness of the clover-scented air. It was Considine and Jordan, who had preferred to walk while the rest drove on, and were enjoying their tobacco in the coolness on their leisurely way.
"Fine lad that ward of ours is growing up. Healthy, handsome, and well conditioned, I should say by his looks. Likely to do credit to his good fortune." It was Jordan who spoke.
"To whom do you allude, sir?" answered the other, with the prim formality of print, and of his native land--a formality which continued residence among Her Majesty's more easy-spoken subjects was little likely to relax at his time of life. "I am not aware of any lad to whom I stand in the relation of guardian to a ward."
"I mean Ralph Herkimer's boy, of course. No! You are right enough! He is not our ward in the legal sense. We can have no voice in his education. But, really, if we had, I do not think we could have brought him up better."
"Ha! Ralph's boy? Yes. He seems what we would class as 'good ordinairy,' down my way, in the Cotton States--a shade better than 'fair to middlin'.' He ain't just real peart, I should say, but then he is not a poor man's son, so that is natural. It takes hard work, and hard feed, and not too much of the feed either, to make a lad truly peart. But he seems high-toned, and that's the main point with a young man of his prospects. But I would expect no less from Mrs. Herkimer's son. Ah, sir! She's Noo Hampshire, 'tis true, and I don't hold with Noo Hampshire and its notions; but, sir, she is a high-souled, clear-seeing, honourable and accomplished--lady." Strange--is it not?--how every female American resents being called a woman! and no male American dare apply that most simple and dignified title to the sex. Let us hope that eventually the coloured lady who condescends to do the washing for white women--she calls them so--will succeed in disgusting them with the frippery pretentiousness of the title she usurps, and educate them into adopting the gracious style of their illustrious mother Eve.
"Oh, yes," answered Jordan, "Mrs. Ralph is an excellent person. My wife thinks all the world of her, and I like her too; though, perhaps, as you say, there is a little more New Hampshire than there need have been. Yes! no doubt, young Gerald is most happy in having such a mother. And then his father! Think of him! An extremely good fellow is Ralph Herkimer. So wealthy! Such talent! Must have it, you know--though that kind of cleverness does not show much in society--to make such a fortune. The practical talent which amasses a fortune never does shine in society, though we are ready enough to give it every credit whenever it gives us the chance, which it never does but when it invites us to dinner, and that, somehow, is not often. However, Ralph is indisputably smart, as well as rich, and of course high principled. How could he have made such a fortune otherwise? Our young friend Gerald is most fortunate in his parents as well as in the old uncle."
"Ah! Gerald. Yes. I am with you there. A high-toned, whole-souled gentleman. I knew him well. Had much to do in assisting him to manage his affairs after he came to Canady. Very handsome affairs they were. And I feel proud at having arranged all to his satisfaction, and realized the whole before our unfort'nate unpleasantness, and the depreciation of values in the South."
"Yes, that was most fortunate. The old gentleman had time to make his Canadian investments before his demise, and so saved you and me, friend Considine"--this was an unwonted familiarity in Jordan's reserved manner of speech, betraying a desire to grow intimate, which implied something in his mind requiring a confidential mood for its reception. "Saved you and me from a power of responsibility."
Considine puffed his cigar in silence. If this rapprochement was meant to lead up to something behind, let it do so, he would give it no assistance. He knew of nothing connected with the Herkimer estate requiring confidential talk just then, and his thoughts were disposed to linger on other themes. The soothing air and the fragrance of his weed brought pleasanter fancies to his mind than could spring from the contemplation of a dead man's money. He had spent a pleasant afternoon, in what, to an old bachelor of his retiring habits, was a scene of unwonted gaiety. The low soft hum of women's voices, the rustle of their silks, the garden scents, and a vague impression of gentle sweetness and pretty behaviour, so different from the tone at his hotel and the club smoking-room, where so many of his evenings were spent, hung like a rosy mist over his memory; and he would fain have let it hang, so unaccustomed was it, and so pleasant. There was something, too, like the wave of falling tresses before his eyes, and a sound of pleasant laughter, not loud or much prolonged, as he recalled his talk with Mrs. Ralph, and another talk which followed, in which Miss Matilda was a third at first, and by-and-by sole auditor and interlocutor, which had lasted long and been extremely pleasant.
"Bless my soul!" said this sober elder to himself. "How deuced agreeable I must have been! She really liked it--I could see that--looked interested, no end, when I was explaining to her. And she understood it all at once! Intelligent, very--cultured, too, and well read--one knew that by the neat remark she made about Seringapatam. And a fine woman. What hair! Well-rounded bust, too, and what dainty slippers. Neat ankle--that time it showed when she kicked the puppy from under the tea-table. She looked as if she saw that I admired it when she was drawing it back. She coloured, I think. But not a bit offended--they never are, to see that a fellow appreciates their 'points.' How archly she smiled, too, at my little sally! What was it again? But I made several, now I think of it, and she smiled at them all--not sure, but she laughed. Yes, she did laugh once--laughed right out. I believe she appreciates me! A woman of discernment. Not one to be taken in by a sleek young puppy, fitted out by his tailor and his barber, and nothing inside but his dinner. No, she appreciates a man who knows something of life! Yes, I do believe she really did appreciate me;" and he stroked his chin complacently, blowing his smoke in a long thin tail of satisfaction into the night, and feeling that the world with its cakes and ale was not all over for him yet, as he pushed out his chest and stepped springily forward.