The American Senator | Page 9

Mrs. Masters, becoming quite eloquent. "And how's a poor man to get a
jury to say that, unless he comes to a lawyer? Of course, if you won't
have it, he'll go to Bearside. Bearside won't turn him away." Bearside
was another attorney, an interloper of about ten years' standing, whose

name was odious to Mr. Masters.
"You don't know anything about it, my dear," said he, aroused at last to
anger.
"I know you're letting anybody who likes take the bread out of the
children's mouths." The children, so called, were sitting round the table
and could not but take an interest in the matter. The eldest was that
Mary Masters, the daughter of the former wife, whom Lady Ushant had
befriended, a tall girl, with dark brown hair, so dark as almost to be
black, and large, soft, thoughtful grey eyes. We shall have much to say
of Mary Masters, and can hardly stop to give an adequate description of
her here. The others were Dolly and Kate, two girls aged sixteen and
fifteen. The two younger "children" were eating bread and butter and
jam in a very healthy manner, but still had their ears wide open to the
conversation that was being held. The two younger girls sympathised
strongly with their mother. Mary, who had known much about the
Mortons, and was old enough to understand the position which her
grandfather had held in reference to the family, of course leaned in her
heart to her father's side. But she was wiser than her father, and knew
that in such discussions her mother often showed a worldly wisdom
which, in their present circumstances, they could hardly afford to
disregard, unpalatable through it might be.
Mr. Masters disliked these discussions altogether, but he disliked them
most of all in presence of his children. He looked round upon them in a
deprecatory manner, making a slight motion with his hand and bringing
his head down on one side, and then he gave a long sigh. If it was his
intention to convey some subtle warning to his wife, some caution that
she alone should understand, he was deceived. The "children" all knew
what he meant quite as well as did their mother.
"Shall we go out, mamma?" asked Dolly. "Finish your teas, my dears,"
said Mr. Masters, who wished to stop the discussion rather than to carry
it on before a more select audience.
"You've got to make up your mind to-night," said Mrs. Masters, "and
you'll be going over to the Bush at eight"

"No, I needn't. He is to come on Monday. I told Nickem I wouldn't see
him to-night; nor, of course, to-morrow."
"Then he'll go to Bearside."
"He may go to Bearside and be --! Oh, Lord! I do wish you'd let me
drop the business for a few minutes when I am in here. You don't know
anything about it. How should you?"
"I know that if I didn't speak you'd let everything slip through your
fingers. There's Mr. Twentyman. Kate, open the door."
Kate, who was fond of Mr. Twentyman, rushed up, and opened the
front door at once. In saying so much of Kate, I do not mean it to be
understood that any precocious ideas of love were troubling that young
lady's bosom. Kate Masters was a jolly bouncing schoolgirl of fifteen,
who was not too proud to eat toffy, and thought herself still a child. But
she was very fond of Lawrence Twentyman, who had a pony that she
could ride, and who was always good-natured to her. All the family
liked Mr. Twentyman,--unless it might be Mary, who was the one that
he specially liked himself. And Mary was not altogether averse to him,
knowing him to be good-natured, manly, and straightforward. But Mr.
Twentyman had proposed to her, and she had certainly not accepted
him. This, however, had broken none of the family friendship. Every
one in the house, unless it might be Mary herself, hoped that Mr.
Twentyman might prevail at last. The man was worth six or seven
hundred a year, and had a good house, and owed no one a shilling. He
was handsome, and about the best-tempered fellow known. Of course
they all desired that he should prevail with Mary. "I wish that I were
old enough, Larry, that's all!" Kate had said to him once, laughing. "I
wouldn't have you, if you were ever laughing." "I wouldn't have you, if
you were ever so old," Larry had replied; "you'd want to be out hunting
every day." That will show the sort of terms that Larry was on with his
friend Kate. He called at the house every Saturday with the declared
object of going over to the club that was held that evening in the