"Yes," said Mr. Lethbridge; "our son Robert."
"How do you do, nephew?" said Miser Farebrother, giving Bob two fingers, which, when Bob got them, he did not know what to do with. "And how is the world using you?"
"Extremely well, sir, thank you," Bob blurted out, without in the least knowing what he was saying; for, instead of the world using him extremely well, it was not using him at all.
"How pleasant to hear!" exclaimed Miser Farebrother. "I feel like rubbing my hands, but one has my crutch-stick in it, and the other is leaning on Jeremiah. You come of a lucky stock; go on and prosper, nephew. And this – " He turned to Fanny, who, in a feverish state, was awaiting recognition. She was so confused that it was not until hours afterward that her indignation was excited at being referred to as "this" – as though she were a chattel.
"Our daughter Fanny," said Aunt Leth, observing that her husband was incapable of speech.
"Kiss me, niece," said Miser Farebrother. He raised his wrinkled face, and Fanny put her lips to it. He called a joyous look into his eyes, and in a kind of rapture murmured: "The kiss of beauty! But don't be too lavish of them, niece." He peered around as though he suddenly missed somebody. "Where is your young gentleman, niece?"
Jeremiah chuckled quietly.
"My young gentleman!" cried Fanny, flushing up.
Her mother gave her a warning look.
"Yes, your young gentleman. There is one here, isn't there? or did Phœbe make a mistake?"
"You mean Mr. Cornwall," said Aunt Leth, in a gentle tone.
"I think that is the name Phœbe mentioned. A lawyer, isn't he?"
"Yes," replied Fanny, before her mother could speak, "and a very clever one."
"Bravo! bravo!" exclaimed Miser Farebrother. "That is as it should be. I am sure he is a very clever one; I hope we are not wrong in our opinion of him – for your sake, niece, for your sake. Sister-in-law, brother-in-law, I congratulate you. Niece, kiss me again."
Fanny held back, but her mother murmured, "Fanny!" and the girl kissed the miser's wrinkled face again, upon which he smacked his lips and cast up his eyes languishingly.
"And now," he said, "I must really go and find my dear Phœbe and the very clever lawyer. We must go; mustn't we, Jeremiah? See, sister-in-law, Jeremiah brought some flowers for my dear child, and happening to forget them when she left the table, she sent him back for them. I am ashamed of myself for having detained him. Do you know where Phœbe is? – this way – or that? That way? Thank you; I shall easily find her. Remember what I said to you – we must really see more of each other; you must come here oftener. And you, brother-in-law, and you, niece. And hark you, nephew: when I asked you how the world was using you, you answered, 'Extremely well, sir.' You did, did you not?"
"Yes, sir," said Bob, not knowing what was coming.
"You were wrong, and you are wrong again. Sister-in-law, too: you called me 'Mr. Farebrother?'"
"Yes," said Aunt Leth, faintly.
"But why? why? Why 'sir' and why 'Mr.'? Everybody else calls me Miser Farebrother. I like it; it tickles me. Pray call me that for the future, like good-natured souls, as you are. Come, Jeremiah, come. Phœbe will be impatient for your flowers."
He hobbled away, clinging to Jeremiah's arm, and presently said,
"Well, Jeremiah?"
"Thank you," said Jeremiah.
"Keep faith with me," said Miser Farebrother, fiercely, taking his hand from Jeremiah's arm, and standing erect, "and I'll keep faith with you. Trick me, deceive me, rob me, and I'll make England too hot to hold you!"
"Why do you speak to me like that?" asked Jeremiah, in an injured tone.
"Because I know the world," retorted the miser; "because I know human nature. Did I show it to them just now, or did I not? Did I compel them to be honey to my face, while they hated me in their hearts? Play tricks with me, and I'll serve you worse!"
"We have made a bargain," said Jeremiah, submissively, "and I will keep to it, and be grateful to you all my life."
"That is what I want," said Miser Farebrother. "While I am alive I am master. When I am gone, you will have your turn."
After that they walked on in silence; but Jeremiah's thoughts, fashioned into words, may be thus construed: "When you are gone! You think I will wait till then, do you? You old fool! you're not in it with me!"
For a few moments after Miser Farebrother left the Lethbridges they gazed at each other in silence. Then said Fanny:
"Would you like to know what I think of Uncle – no – Miser Farebrother? Well, I think he's a brute!"
"Hush, hush, Fanny!" said Mrs. Lethbridge. "For Phœbe's sake!"
CHAPTER IV
A SACRED PROMISE – WON BY GUILE
Upon the happy musings of the lovers came a harsh interruption. They turned and saw Miser Farebrother and Jeremiah.
"I have been looking for you, Phœbe," said the miser; "and so has Jeremiah."
"Your flowers, miss," said Jeremiah, offering them.
With her father's eye upon her, she could not choose but take them.
"You sent me back for them, you know," said Jeremiah. "I should have brought them before, but for – "
"But for my calling to him," interrupted Miser Farebrother, "upon a matter of business. I am pleased that your friends have enjoyed themselves. You have had a pleasant birthday, Phœbe?"
"Very pleasant, father; I shall never forget it. Father, this is Mr. Cornwall, who brought me the presents I showed you."
"I trust you will excuse me," said Fred, gazing with interest at Phœbe's father, "for intruding myself. But Miss Farebrother and I have met so often at Mrs. Lethbridge's house that I thought I might venture."
"All my daughter's friends," said Miser Farebrother, in his blandest tone, "are welcome here. A very charming family, the Lethbridges."
"Indeed they are," said Fred, warmly.
"We have met but seldom," said Miser Farebrother, "and I was just expressing my regret that we did not see each other oftener."
"Oh, father!" said Phœbe, in a grateful voice, gliding to his side. There was no discordant note in his speech; he looked kindly upon her; and he had met Fred Cornwall in a spirit of friendliness. Her cup of happiness was full to overflowing.
"Perhaps Mr. Cornwall will give me his address," said Miser Farebrother. "I may ask him to decide some knotty point of law for me."
Fred Cornwall drew forth his card-case with alacrity, and handed a card to the miser.
"You will excuse me now," said Miser Farebrother; "I am by no means well, and I must go in-doors and rest. Remain with your friends, Phœbe; Jeremiah will assist me to my room. Come in and wish me good-night, Phœbe, before you retire."
"Yes, father, I will."
He smiled amiably, and saying "Good evening, Mr. Cornwall," departed, clinging to Jeremiah's arm. Jeremiah was not at all in a good humour; he would have preferred to be left behind with Phœbe, and he said as much to his master.
"Be wise, be wise, Jeremiah," said Miser Farebrother, in response to this complaint. "You are but a novice with these people. Take a lesson from me, and learn to wait with patience. Before a good general strikes a blow, he lays his plans, and satisfies himself that everything is in order. Do I know how to act, eh? Have I already entangled and confused them, or have I not? I shall be a subject of discussion among them. 'He was flinging stones at us all the time he was speaking,' the Lethbridges