________________________________________________
CHAPTER IV. The Son of an Old Shipmate
When Olive came down to breakfast the next morning she half repented
that she had consented to go away and leave her uncle for so long a
time. But when she made known her state of mind the captain laughed at
her.
"My child," said he, "I want you to go. Of course, I did not take to the
notion at first, but I did not consider then what you will have to tell
when you come home. The people of Glenford will be your everlasting
debtors. It might be a good thing to invite Maria Port out here. You
could give her the best time she ever had in her life, telling her about
the Broadstone people."
"Maria Port, indeed!" said Olive. "But we won't talk of her. And you
really are willing I should go?"
"I speak the truth when I say I want you to go," replied the captain.
Whereupon Olive assured him that he was truly a good uncle.
After the Easterfield carriage had rolled away with Olive alone on the
back seat, waving her handkerchief, the captain requested Jane to take
entire charge of the toll-gate for a time; and, having retired to his
own room, he took from his pocket the letter he had received the day
before.
"I must write an answer to this," he said, "before the postman comes."
The letter was from one of the captain's old shipmates, Captain Richard
Lancaster, the best friend he had had when he was in the merchant
service. Captain Lancaster had often been asked by his old friend to
visit him at the toll-gate, but, being married and rheumatic, he had
never accepted the invitation. But now he wrote that his son, Dick, had
planned a holiday trip which would take him through Glenford, and that,
if it suited Captain Asher, the father would accept for the son the
long-standing invitation. Captain Lancaster wrote that as he could not
go himself to his old friend Asher, the next best thing would be for his
son to go, and when the young man returned he could tell his father all
about Captain Asher. There would be something in that like old times.
Besides, he wanted his former shipmate to know his son Dick, who was, in
his eyes, a very fine young fellow.
"There never was such a lucky thing in the world," said Captain Asher to
himself, when he had finished rereading the letter. "Of course, I want
to have Dick Lancaster's son here, but I could not have had him if Olive
had been here. But now it is all right. The young fellow can stay here a
few days, and he will be gone before she gets back. If I like him I can
ask him to come again; but that's my business. Handsome women, like that
Mrs. Easterfield, always bring good luck. I have noticed that many and
many a time."
Then he set himself to work to write a letter to invite young Richard
Lancaster to spend a few days with him.
For the rest of that day, and the greater part of the next, Captain
Asher gave a great deal of thinking time to the consideration of the
young man who was about to visit him, and of whom, personally, he knew
very little. He was aware that Captain Lancaster had a son and no other
children, and he was quite sure that this son must now be a grown-up
young man. He remembered very well that Captain Lancaster was a fine
young fellow when he first knew him, and he did not doubt at all that
the son resembled the father. He did not believe that young Dick was a
sailor, because he and old Dick had often said to each other that if
they married their sons should not go to sea. Of course he was in some
business; and Captain Lancaster ought to be well able to give him a good
start in life; just as able as he himself was to give Olive a good start
in housekeeping when the time came.
"Now, what in the name of common sense," ejaculated Captain Asher, "did
I think of that for? What has he to do with Olive, or Olive with him?"
And then he said to himself, thinking of the young man in the bosom of
his family and without reference to anybody outside of it: "Yes, his
father must be pretty well off. He did a good deal more trading than
ever I did. But after all, I don't believe he invested his money any
better than I did mine, and it is just as like as not if we were to show
our hands, that Olive would get as much as Dick's son. There it is
again. I can't keep my mind off the thing." And as he spoke he knocked
the ashes out of his pipe, and began to stride up and down the garden
walk; and as he did so he began to reproach himself.
What right had he to think of his niece in that way? It was not doing
the fair thing by her father, and perhaps by her, for that matter. For
all he knew she might be engaged to somebody out West or down East, or
in some other part of the world where she had lived. But this idea made
very little impression on him. Knowing Olive as he did, he did not
believe that she was engaged to anybody anywhere; he did not want to
think that she was the kind of girl who would conceal her engagement
from him, or who could do it, for that matter. But, everything
considered, he was very glad Olive had gone to Broadstone, for, whatever
the young fellow might happen to be, he wanted to know all about him
before Olive met him.
Captain Asher firmly believed that there was nothing of the matchmaker
in his disposition, but notwithstanding this estimate of himself, he
went on thinking of Olive and the son of his old shipmate, both
separately and together. He had never said to anybody, nor intimated to
anybody, that he was going to give any of his moderate fortune to his
niece. In fact, before this visit to him he had not thought much about
it, nor did it enter his mind that Olive's Boston aunt, her mother's
sister, had favored this visit of the girl to her toll-gate uncle,
hoping that he might think about it.
In consequence of these cogitations, and in spite of the fact that he
despised matchmaking, Captain Asher was greatly interested in the coming
advent of his shipmate's son.
When the same phaeton, the same horse, and the same boy that had brought
Maria Port to the tollhouse, conveyed there a young man with two
valises, one rather large, Captain Asher did not hurry from the house to
meet his visitor. He had seen him coming, and had preferred to stand in
his doorway and take a preliminary observation of him. Having taken
this, Captain Asher was obliged to confess to himself that he was
disappointed.
The first cause of his disappointment was the fact that the young man
wore a colored shirt and no vest, and a yellow leather belt. Now,
Captain Asher for the greater part of his active life had worn colored
shirts, sometimes very dark ones, with no vests, but he had not supposed
that a young man coming to a house where there was a young lady
accustomed to the best society would present himself in such attire. The
captain instantly remembered that his visitor could not know that there
was a young lady at the house, but this did not satisfy him. Such attire
was not respectful, even to him. The leather belt especially offended
him. The captain was not aware of the _neglige_ summer fashions for men
which then prevailed.
The next thing that disappointed him was that young Lancaster, seen
across the garden, did not appear to be the strapping young fellow he
had expected to see. He was moderately tall, and moderately broad, and
handled his valise with apparent ease, but he did not look as though he
were his father's son. Dick Lancaster had married the daughter of a
captain when he was only a second mate, and that piece of good fortune
had been generally attributed to his good looks.
But these observations and reflections occupied a very short time, and
Captain Asher walked quickly to meet his visitor. As he stepped out of
the garden-gate he was disappointed again. The young man's trousers were
turned up above his shoes. The weather was not wet, there was no mud,
and if Dick Lancaster's son had not bought a pair of ready-made trousers
that were too long for him, why should he turn them up in that
ridiculous way?
In spite of these first impressions, the captain gave his old friend's
son a hearty welcome, and took him into the house. After dinner he
subjected the young man to a crucial test; he asked him if he smoked. If
the visitor had answered in the negative he would have dropped still
further in the captain's estimation. It was not that the captain had any
theories in regard to the sanitary advantages or disadvantages of
tobacco; he simply remembered that nearly all the rascals with whom he
had been acquainted had been eager to declare that they never used
tobacco in any form, and that nearly all the good fellows he had known
enjoyed their pipes. In fact, he could not see how good fellowship could
be maintained without good talk and good tobacco, so he waited with an
anxious interest for his guest's answer.
"Oh, yes," said he, "I am fond of a smoke, especially in company," and
so, having risen several inches in the good opinion of his host, he
followed him to the little arbor in the garden.
"Now, then," said Captain Asher, when his pipe was alight, "you have
told me a great deal about your father, now tell me something about
yourself. I do not even know what your business is."
"I am Assistant Professor of Theoretical Mathematics in Sutton College,"
answered the young man.
Captain Asher put down his pipe and gazed at his visitor across the
arbor. This answer was so different from anything he had expected that
for the moment he could not express his astonishment, and was obliged to
content himself with asking where Sutton College was.
"It is what they call a fresh-water college," replied the young man,
"and I do not wonder that you do not know where it is. It is near our
town. I graduated there and received my present appointment about three
years ago. I was then twenty-seven."
"Your father was good at mathematics," said Captain Asher. "He was a
great hand at calculations, but he went in for practise, as I did, and
not for theories. I suppose there are other professors who teach regular
working mathematics."
"Oh, yes," replied the young man, with a smile, "there is the Professor
of Applied Mathematics, but of course the thorough student wants to
understand the theories on which his practise is to be based."
"I do not see why he should," replied the other. "If a good ship is
launched for me, I don't care anything about the stocks she slides off
of."
"Perhaps not," said Lancaster, "but somebody has to think about them."
In the afternoon Captain Asher showed his visitor his little farm, and
took him out fishing. During these recreations he refrained, as far as
possible, from asking questions, for he did not wish the young man to
suppose that for any reason he had been sent there to undergo an
examination. But in the evening he could not help talking about the
college, not in reference to the work and life of the students, a
subject that did not interest him, but in regard to the work and the
prospects of the faculty.
"What does your president teach?" he asked. "I believe all presidents
have charge of some branch or other."
"Oh, yes," said Lancaster, "our president is Professor of Mental and
Moral Philosophy."
"I thought it would be something of the kind," said the captain to
himself. "Even the head Professor of Mathematical Theories would never
get to the top of the heap. He is not useful enough for that."
After he had gone to bed that night Captain Asher found himself laughing
about the events of the day. He could not help it when he remembered how
his mind had been almost constantly occupied with a consideration of his
old shipmate's son with reference to his brother's daughter. And when he
remembered that neither of these two young people had ever seen or heard
of the other, it is not surprising that he laughed a little.
"It's none of my business, anyway," thought the captain, "and I might as
well stop bothering my head about it. I suppose I might as well tell
him about Olive, for it is nothing I need keep secret. But first I'll
see how long he is going to stay. It's none of his business, anyway,
whether I have a niece staying with me or not."
Read next: Chapter 5. Olive Pays Toll
Read previous: Chapter 3. Mrs. Easterfield
Table of content of Captain's Toll-Gate
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book
