“Mr. Frobisher wished to see me particularly, you say?”
“Yes; Charley heard you say one day that you were fond of shooting; and as there is fine sport to be had in Leicester, he thought it might be agreeable to you to—”
The smile of polite curiosity with which he heard that Charley had had something to say to him rapidly faded as I spoke, and there came into his countenance a look of such intense seriousness, nay, even of subdued and suffering agitation, that, for a moment, I lost my self-possession in my surprise, but managed to finish my message in a stumbling sort of way. As for the Don, anticipating, apparently, from my opening words what that message was to be, he seemed hardly conscious that it was ended. He sat, for a moment, with his head resting in the palm of his hand, his piercing eyes fixed upon the floor; but seeming suddenly to realize that this was a queer way of meeting a courtesy, he quickly raised his head. “Thanks, thanks,” said he, with a forced smile, but with apologetic emphasis. “Charley—I beg pardon—Mr. Frobisher is very kind,—very kind indeed! Yes, I should immensely enjoy having a tilt once more at the partridges.[[1]] Very much indeed.”
“Then I may hope that you will accept?”
“Oh, certainly, with very great pleasure. Please present my warmest acknowledgments to Char—Mr. Frobisher, and say that I shall be at his command so soon as I shall have recovered my strength somewhat.” He paused for a moment; then, throwing back his head with a little laugh: “By the way,” he continued, “I beg you will not misinterpret my singular way of receiving the invitation. It was such a surprise, and I am still a little weak, you know.”
“You must allow me to add how much gratified I, too, am at your decision. You know—or do you not?—that the invitation is to my grandfather’s place, Elmington.”
“Elmington?”
“Ah, I see—very naturally, you don’t understand that Charley lives with my grandfather.”
“With your grandfather? Why, how can that be? I thought his place adjoined your—” And he stopped suddenly. “Please be so good as to explain,” he added, in a low voice.
“Well, this rather peculiar state of things came about in this way. My mother died before I was a month old, and my father, my grandfather’s only son, survived her less than a year; so that I was brought up by the old gentleman. Now, Charley’s place adjoined Elmington, my grandfather’s, their respective residences being not over a half-mile apart; and so Charley got into the habit—however, I must mention that Charley lost his father years ago, and, about ten years since, his mother died.”