I did the honours as well as I could; but not without committing sundry awkward blunders; greatly to the horror of Saunders, who with toe and elbow, gave me various silent hints upon the subject, as he glided noiselessly to and fro. This only increased my confusion, but, fortunately, my worthy relative was too much engrossed with his dinner, to notice the trifling omissions, which poor Saunders considered of such immense importance.
I was greatly relieved when the cloth was removed; and the wine and glasses were placed upon the table, and Sir Alexander and I were left alone to improve our acquaintance.
He commenced the conversation by introducing the very subject uppermost in my mind.
"Did I mistake you, young gentleman, or did you tell me, that you were a son of the late Edward Moncton?"
"His only son."
"I was not aware of his marriage—still less that he left a son. It is strange, that I should have been kept in ignorance of this important fact."
This was said half musingly. He then turned to me with a lively air.
"Your father, young gentleman, deeply offended me. It was a foolish affair; but it effectually severed the friendship of years. We repent of these things when it is too late. Had he been less violent, and less obstinate, a reconciliation might have been brought about. As it was—interested parties did their best to widen the breach.
"Edward and I were school-fellows; and though little harmony existed between the elder branches of the family, we loved like brothers. He was a handsome, generous, high-spirited fellow, but rash and extravagant. While at school he was always in debt and difficulty, to the great annoyance of his money-loving father, who looked upon me as the aider and abettor in all his scrapes. We continued firm friends until the night before he left college, when the quarrel, which I do not mean to particularize, took place; from which period we never met, and all correspondence ceased between us. I heard, that in after-years, he made a love connexion; but I never learned the particulars from any one but your uncle Robert; and he did not inform me, that Edward had left a son—nor can I comprehend his motive for concealing the fact."
Sir Alexander paused and looked earnestly in my face. I felt the blood rush to my temples.