Page:What will he do with it.djvu/432

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WHAT WILL HE DO WITH IT?

IV/y.-l T WILL HE DO WITH IT f

of farming. But I have a family, and we live in enlightened times, when children require a finer education than their parents had. Mrs. Hartopp thought my daughter Anna Maria was in need of some ' finishing lessons '—very fond of the harp is Anna Maria—and so we have taken a house in London for six weeks. That's Mrs. Hartopp yonder, with the bird on her head—bird of paradise, I believe—Williams says that birds of that kind never rest. That bird is an exception—it has rested on Mrs. Har- topp's head for hours together, every evening since we have been in town."

"Significant of your connubial felicity, Mr. Hartopp."

"May it be so of Anna Maria's. She is to be married when her education is finished—married, by-the-by, to a son of your old friend Jessop, of Ouzelford—and between you and me, Mr. Darrell, that is the reason why I consented to come to town. Do not suppose that I would have a daughter finished unless there was a husband at hand who undertook to be responsible for the results."

"You retain your wisdom, Mr. Hartopp; and I feel sure that not even your fair partner could have brought you up to Lon- don unless you had decided on the expediency of coming. Do you remember that I told you the day you so admirably set- tled a dispute in our committee-room, ' It was well you were not born a king, for you would have been an irresistible tyrant.'"

"Hush! hush!" whispered Hartopp in great alarm, " if Mrs. Hartopp should hear you! What an observer j'ou are, Sir! I thought /was a judge of character—but I was once deceived. I dare say yow never were."

"You mistake," answered Darrell, wincing, "you deceived! How?"

"Oh, a long story. Sir. It was an elderly man—the most agreeable, interesting companion—a vagabond nevertheless— and such a pretty bewitching little girl with him, his grandchild. I thought he might have been a wild harum-scarum chap in his day, but that he had a true sense of honor"—(Darrell wholly uninterested in this narrative, suppressed a yawn, and wonder- ing when it would end). "Only think. Sir, just as I was say- ing to myself, ' I know character—I never was taken in,' down comes a smart fellow—the man's own son—and tells me—or rather he suffers a lady who comes with him to tell me—that this charming old gentleman of high sense of honor was a returned convict—been transported for robbing his employer."

Pale, breathless, Darrell listened, not unheeding now. " What was the name of—of—"