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He will be in presently." "Sit down, sit down. Mrs. Waule, you'd better go." Even those neighbors who had called Peter Featherstone an old fox, had never accused him of being insincerely polite, and his sister was quite used to the peculiar absence of ceremony with which he marked his sense of blood-relationship.
"I am much obliged," said Mary, hastening away again, "but I have little time for reading." "I should say my brother has done something for her in his will," said Mr. Solomon, in a very low undertone, when she had shut the door behind her, pointing with his head towards the absent Mary. "His first wife was a poor match for him, though," said Mrs. Waule.
Solomon and Mrs. Waule are here every day, and the others come often." The old man listened with a grimace while she spoke, and then said, relaxing his face, "The more fools they. You hearken, missy. It's three o'clock in the morning, and I've got all my faculties as well as ever I had in my life. I know all my property, and where the money's put out, and everything.
Still looking at the fire, he said "And who pretends to say Fred Vincy hasn't got expectations? Such a fine, spirited fellow is like enough to have 'em." There was a slight pause before Mrs. Waule replied, and when she did so, her voice seemed to be slightly moistened with tears, though her face was still dry.
"Yes, in property going out of families," said Mrs. Waule, in continuation, "and where there's steady young men to carry on. But I pity them who are not such, and I pity their mothers. Good-by, Brother Peter."
"Them who've made sure of their good-luck may be disappointed yet," Mrs. Waule continued, finding some relief in this communication. "Hopes are often delusive," said Mr. Trumbull, still in confidence. "Ah!" said Mrs. Waule, looking across at the Vincys, and then moving back to the side of her sister Martha. "It's wonderful how close poor Peter was," she said, in the same undertones.
Waule had a melancholy triumph in the proof that it did not answer to make false Featherstones and cut off the genuine; and Sister Martha receiving the news in the Chalky Flats said, "Dear, dear! then the Almighty could have been none so pleased with the almshouses after all." Affectionate Mrs.
Trumbull, you never can mean to say that. It would be flying in the face of the Almighty that's prospered him." While Mrs. Waule was speaking, Mr. Borthrop Trumbull walked away from the fireplace towards the window, patrolling with his fore-finger round the inside of his stock, then along his whiskers and the curves of his hair.
"As a man with public business, I take a snack when I can. I will back this ham," he added, after swallowing some morsels with alarming haste, "against any ham in the three kingdoms. In my opinion it is better than the hams at Freshitt Hall and I think I am a tolerable judge." "Some don't like so much sugar in their hams," said Mrs. Waule. "But my poor brother would always have sugar."
"Thank you," said Mary, "I have an errand." "Well, Mr. Trumbull, you're highly favored," said Mrs. Waule. "What! seeing the old man?" said the auctioneer, playing with his seals dispassionately. "Ah, you see he has relied on me considerably." Here he pressed his lips together, and frowned meditatively.
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