After handing a glass of excellent Madeira to his guest, Mr. Wharton,
for so was the owner of this retired estate called, resumed his seat by
the fire, with another in his own hand. For a moment he paused, as if
debating with his politeness, but at length threw an inquiring glance on
the stranger, as he inquired,--
"To whose health am I to have the honor of drinking?"
The traveler had also seated himself, and he sat unconsciously gazing on
the fire, while Mr. Wharton spoke; turning his eyes slowly on his host
with a look of close observation, he replied, while a faint tinge
gathered on his features,--
"Mr. Harper."
"Mr. Harper," resumed the other, with the formal precision of that day,
"I have the honor to drink your health, and to hope you will sustain no
injury from the rain to which you have been exposed."
Mr. Harper bowed in silence to the compliment, and he soon resumed the
meditations from which he had been interrupted, and for which the long
ride he had that day made, in the wind, might seem a very
natural apology.
The young ladies had again taken their seats beside the workstand, while
their aunt, Miss Jeanette Peyton, withdrew to superintend the
preparations necessary to appease the hunger of their unexpected
visitor. A short silence prevailed, during which Mr.
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