Part 12

The girl glanced across and, recognizing Dick (and, it must be admitted, her Clarendon inquirer as well), nodded.

Both men took off their hats. But Croyden noticed that the older man could teach him much in the way it should be done. He did it shortly, sharply, in the city way; Dick, slowly, deferentially, as though it were an especial privilege to uncover to her.

"Miss Carrington is a beauty!" Croyden exclaimed, looking after her. "Are there more like her, in Hampton?"

"I'm too old, sir, to be a competent judge," returned Dick, "but I should say we have several who trot in the same class. I mean, sir----"

"I understand!" laughed Croyden. "It's no disrespect in a Marylander, I take it, when he compares the ladies with his race-horses."

"It's not, sir! At least, that's the way we of the older generation feel; our ladies and our horses run pretty close together. But that spirit is fast disappearing, sir! The younger ones are becoming--commercialized, if you please. It's dollars first, and then the ladies, with them--and the horses nowhere. Though I don't say it's not wise. Horses and the war have almost broken us, sir. We lost the dollars, or forgot about them and they lost themselves, whichever way it was, sir. It's right that our sons should start on a new track and run the course in their own way--Yes, sir," suddenly recollecting himself, "Miss Carrington's a pretty girl, and so's Miss Tayloe and Miss Lashiel and a heap more. Indeed, sir, Hampton is famed on the Eastern Sho' for her women. I'll attend to your baggage, and the telephone, sir, and if there is anything else I can do, pray command me. Drop in and see me when you get up town. Good day, sir, good day." And removing his hat with a bow just a little less deferential than the one he had given to Miss Carrington, he proceeded up the street, leisurely and deliberately, as though the world were waiting for him.

"And he is a real estate agent!" reflected Croyden. "The man who, according to our way of thinking, is the acme of hustle and bustle and business, and schemes to trap the unwary. Truly, the Eastern Shore has much to learn--or we have much to unlearn! Well, I have tried the one--and failed. Now, I'm going to try the other. It seems to promise a quiet life, at least."

He turned, to find Moses in the doorway, waiting.

"Marster Croyden," he said, "shall I puts yo satchel an' things in de Cun'l's room, seh?"

Croyden nodded. He did not know which was the Colonel's room, but it was likely to be the best in the house, and, moreover, it was well to follow him wherever he could.

"And see that my luggage is taken there, when the man brings it," he directed--"and tell Josephine to have luncheon at one and dinner at seven."

The darky hesitated.

"De Cun'l hed dinner in de middle o' de day, seh," he said, as though Croyden had inadvertently erred.

And Croyden appreciating the situation, answered:

"Well, you see, Moses, I've been used to the other way and I reckon you will have to change to suit me."

"Yass, seh! yass, seh! I tell Jose. Lunch is de same as supper, I s'pose, seh?"

Croyden had to think a moment.

"Yes," he said, "that will answer--like a light supper."

"There may be an objection, after all, to taking over Colonel Duval's old servants," he reflected. "It may be difficult to persuade them that he is no longer the master. I run the chance of being ruled by a dead man."

Presently his luggage arrived, and he went upstairs to unpack. Moses looked, in wonder, at the wardrobe trunk, with every suit on a separate hanger, the drawers for shirts and linen, the apartments for hats, and collars, and neckties, and the shoes standing neatly in a row below.

"Whar's de use atak'in de things out t'al, Marster Croyden!" he exclaimed.

"So as to put the trunk away."

"Sho'! I mo'nt a kno'd hit. Hit's mons'us strange, seh, whar yo mon't a' kno'd ef yo'd only stop to t'ink. F' instance, I mon't a kno'd yo'd cum back to Clarendon, seh, some day, cuz yo spends yo money on hit. Heh!"

Then a bell tinkled softly from below.

"Dyar's dinner--I means lunch, seh," said Moses. "'Scuse me, seh."

"And I'm ready for it," said Croyden, as he went to the iron wash-stand, and then slowly down stairs to the dining-room.

From some place, Moses had resurrected a white coat, yellow with its ten years' rest, and was waiting to receive him. He drew out Croyden's chair, as only a family servant of the olden times can do it, and bowed him into his place.

The table was set exactly as in Colonel Duval's day, and very prettily set, Croyden thought, with napery spotless, and china that was thin and fine. The latter, if he had but known it, was Lowestoft and had served the Duvals, on that very table, for much more than a hundred years.