“Dr. Manning’s own son!” exclaimed Norton. “Well, Judge Danvers, do you know, this is all very remarkable? very gratifying? Considering the habits and character of my poor brother, you know we were almost afraid to find my nephew. Expected, of course, he’d be unfit for civilized society, and all that sort of thing. It’s a very happy disappointment, I assure you.”
“I should think it would be,” said the Judge, with enthusiasm, “and it’ll get better and better, the more you know him. Why, sir, I meant to make a lawyer of him.”
“Perhaps you’ll have a chance, yet,” replied Norton; “but he may prefer something else when he grows up and has seen a little of the world.”
“The world, indeed!” remarked Judge Danvers. “I’m not half sure but he’s seen as much of the world as an average Englishman already.”
Inasmuch as the important question of Bar Vernon’s recognition by his relatives could now be safely regarded as settled, and his personal presence was hardly required for the transaction of mere “law business” between Judge Danvers and “the representative of the Vernon estate,” Bar and George Brayton shortly left the lawyer’s office for a walk and talk on their own account.
“And so,” said Brayton, “you and I are not even cousins, after all.”
“Queer kind of cousins,” said Bar, with a laugh, “but I am half sorry for it. I wish I could call your mother my aunt, you see. I wonder if I’ve any aunts over in England? I must ask Norton about that. How do you like him?”
“Very much,” said Brayton. “But do you mean to go to England with him?”
“Not by a good deal!” exclaimed Bar Vernon, with great energy. “Do you suppose I’d go over there, as ignorant as I now am, and let them all find it out? No, sir! I’ll study ten times harder than ever, till I feel I’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”
“That’s right,” said Brayton. “So you’d better go back to Ogleport with me and I’ll look out for your improvement.”