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"Well, I consider myself one," said Patty. "I'm not in a bit of hurry to be grown-up; but we're going to have a lovely sailing party, Ethelyn, on Fourth of July, and I'm sure you'll enjoy that." "Are any young men going?" said Ethelyn. "There are a lot of boys going," said Patty. "But the only young men will be my father and Uncle Charley and Mr. Hepworth." "Who is Mr. Hepworth?"
Hepworth Dixon had been here not long before, and, as was right and fitting in the city of Quakers, a high banquet had been held in honor of the vindicator of William Penn.
No amount of thinking or discussion seemed to suggest any novel enterprise by which a fortune could be made at short notice, and at last Nan said: "I should think, Patty, that Mr. Hepworth could help. He's always having queer sorts of performances in his studio. Don't you know the Mock Art exhibition he told us about?"
"Not while you meet me and and Hepworth in this fashion, papa. I don't like it. One would think you intended to make trouble." "Foolish child! Go as I tell you." "Not while you look at me like that. Do you know, papa, that you have forgotten to kiss me, or even shake hands; and that is a thing I never saw you guilty of before."
Why; he felt himself at times to be eighty years old, so old that he was unfitted for intercourse with such juvenile spirits as those of his neighbour the bishop, and of his friend Hepworth. Could he, by any training, bring himself to take her happiness in hand, altogether sacrificing his own? In such a mood as this he did at last answer his enemy's letter, and he answered it as follows:
"Thus," says Hepworth Dixon, "after the most rigid scrutiny into his official acts, and into the official acts of his servants, not a single fee or remembrance, traced to the chancellor, can, by any fair construction, be called a bribe. Not one appears to have been given on a promise; not one appears to have been given in secret; not one is alleged to have corrupted justice."
From the chain and the diamond, Hepworth's first thought was, that the person must be some Californian or Australian acquaintance, belonging to his old mining days, but the man soon set that idea aside. "You don't happen to remember me, Mr. Hepworth, but I knew you at the first sight. Ask my lady here. Didn't I say, Mrs.
"And you mean to refuse this gentleman?" "Undoubtedly I mean to refuse that gentleman." There was an emphasis of fine irony laid on the last word, which Hepworth felt with a sting of indignation; but he controlled himself, in respect to Clara's presence, and stood aloof, pale and stern as the man before him.
Hepworth said it was especially well adapted to Patty's style, and that he would like to paint her portrait in that garb. This seemed to Mr. Fairfield a good idea, and they at once made arrangements for future sittings. Patty was greatly pleased. "Won't it be fine, papa?" she said. "It will be an ancestral portrait to hang in Boxley Hall and keep till I'm an old lady like Miss Daggett."
Hepworth!" cried Olympia; "my good American friend! This is a happiness!" Hepworth bowed over the white hand she held out; but did not kiss it, as she might have expected, being used to all sorts of homage. She looked at him in pleasant astonishment, dropped her hand with a faint laugh, and turned to the young girl. "Caroline, you have never seen Mr. Hepworth, I think."
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