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"Yes; what surprises you?"
"Is Hoffland here?"
Mowbray nodded.
Denis looked round; and then his puzzled glance returned to the face of his friend.
"I do not see him," he said.
"He went into the garden just now," explained Mowbray.
Denis would have given thousands to be able to say, "Where is Lucy?"
It was utterly impossible, however. Instead of doing so, he asked:
"You came in a buggy?"
"Yes," said Mowbray.
"Is Hoffland agreeable--I mean a pleasant fellow?"
"I think so: rather given to jesting--and I suppose this was the origin of your unhappy difficulty. Most quarrels spring from jests."
"True. I believe he was jesting; in fact I know it," said poor Jack Denis, wiping his brow and trying to plunge his glance into the depths of the garden, where Lucy and Hoffland were no doubt walking. "Still, Ernest, I could not have acted differently; and you would be the first person to agree with me, were I to tell you the subject of his jests."
And Denis frowned.
"What was it?" said Mowbray. "Hoffland refused point-blank to tell me, and I am perfectly ignorant of the whole affair."
Denis hesitated. Was it fair and honest to prejudice Mowbray against the boy? but on the contrary, was not the whole affair now explained as a simple jest, and would there be harm in telling what the young student had said to provoke him? The young man hesitated, and said:
"I don't know--it was a mere jest; there is no use in opening the subject again----"
"Ah, Jack!" said Mowbray, "I see that I am to live and die in ignorance, for I repeat that Hoffland would not tell me. With all the carelessness of a child, he seems to possess the reserve of a politician or a woman."
"A strange character, is he not?" said Denis.
"Yes; and yet he has won upon me powerfully."
"Your acquaintance is very short," said poor Denis, his heart sinking at the thought of having so handsome and graceful a rival as the boy.
"Very," returned Mowbray; "but he positively took me by storm."
"And you like him?"
"To be sincere--exceedingly."
"Why?" muttered Denis.
"Really, I can scarcely say," replied his friend; "but he is a mere boy; seems to be wholly without friends; and he has virtually yielded to me the guidance of all his affairs. This may seem an absurd reason for liking Hoffland; but that is just my weak side, Jack. When any one comes to me and says, 'I am weak and inexperienced, you are in a position to aid and a.s.sist me; be my friend;' how can I refuse?"
"And Hoffland----"
"Has done so? Yes."
"Humph!"
"Besides this, he is a mere boy; and to speak frankly, is so affectionate and winning in his demeanor toward me, that I really have not the courage to repel his advances. Strange young man! at times I know not what to think of him. He is alternately a child, a woman, and a matured man in character; but most often a child."
"Indeed?" said Denis, whose heart sunk at every additional word uttered by Mowbray; "how then did he display such willingness to fight--and I will add, such careless bravado?"
"Because fighting was a mere word to him," said Mowbray; "I believe that he no more realized the fact that you would direct the muzzle of a pistol toward his breast, than that you would stab or poison him."
Denis wiped his brow.
"I didn't want to fight," he said; "but I was obliged to do something."
"Was the provocation gross?"
"Pardon my question. I did not mean to return to the subject, inasmuch as some reason for withholding the particulars of the interview seems to exist in your mind."
Denis hesitated and muttered something to himself; then, raising his head suddenly, he added with some bitterness:
"Perhaps you may have your curiosity satisfied from another source, Ernest. I see Mr. Hoffland approaching the house with Miss Lucy--from the garden, there. No doubt he will tell you."
In fact, Miss Lucy and Hoffland were sauntering in from the garden in high glee. Lucy from time to time burst into loud and merry laughter, clapping her hands, and expressing great delight at something which Hoffland was communicating; and Hoffland was bending down familiarly and whispering in her ear.
No sooner, however, had the promenaders caught sight of Mowbray and Denis looking at them, than their manner suddenly changed. Hoffland drew back, and raising his head with great dignity, solemnly offered his arm to the young girl; and Lucy, choking down her merriment and puckering up her lips to hide her laughter, placed her little finger on the sleeve of her cavalier. And so they approached the inmates of the cottage, with quiet and graceful dignity, like n.o.ble lord and lady; and entering, bowed ceremoniously, and sat down with badly smothered laughter.
"Really," said Mowbray smiling, "you will permit me to say, Charles, that you have a rare genius for making acquaintance suddenly: Lucy and yourself seem to be excellent friends already."
And he looked kindly at the boy, who smiled.
"Friends?" said Hoffland; "we are cousins!"
"Cousins? Indeed!"
"Certainly, my dear fellow," said Hoffland, with a delightful ease and _bonhomie_. "I have discovered that my great-grandmother married the cousin of an uncle of cousin Lucy's great-grandfather's wife's aunt; and moreover, that this aunt was the niece of my great-uncle's first wife's husband. That makes it perfectly plain--don't it, Mr. Denis?
Take care how you differ with me: cousin Lucy understands it perfectly, and she has a very clear head."
"Thank you, sir," said Lucy, laughing; "a great compliment."
"Not at all," said Hoffland; "some women have a great deal of sense--or at least a good deal."
"Indeed, sir!"
"Yes; but it is not their failing generally. I have taken up that impression of you, cousin Lucy, from our general conversation; not from your ability to comprehend so simple a genealogical table as that of our relationship."
"Upon my word, _I_ don't understand it," said Mowbray, smiling.