It was out of sight in a few minutes, and in a few minutes more it was
out of hearing; but in that short time George, who was quick-witted, had
shrewdly guessed the name and rank of the gentleman with the plain
clothes and the diamond-hilted sword. It was the great Earl of
Fairfax--the soldier, the wit, the rich nobleman--who for some
mysterious reason had chosen to come to this new land and to build a
lodge in the wilderness. The boy had often heard his mother, Madam
Washington, speak of Earl Fairfax. Meeting with him was one of the
events of that great journey she had made in her girlhood to England,
where for a time she lived in the house of her brother, Joseph Ball, at
Cookham, in Berkshire, who had left his Virginia home and had taken up
his residence in England. Here Mary Ball had met Angustine Washington,
then in England upon affairs connected with his property. Augustine
Washington was one of the handsomest men of his day, and from him his
eldest son George inherited the noble air and figure that marked him.
Mary Ball was a Virginia beauty, and although admired by many Englishmen
of distinction, she chose rather to marry Augustine Washington, albeit
he had been married before, and had two motherless boys. In England,
therefore, were they married, sailing soon after for Virginia, and
within twelve years Mrs. Washington was a widow with five children. She
loved to talk to her children of those happy English days, when she had
first pledged herself to Augustine Washington. It had also been the only
time of excitement in her quiet life, and she had met many of the wits
and cavaliers and belles of the reign of George the Second. She
sometimes spoke of Lord Fairfax, but always guardedly; and George had
conceived the idea that his mother perhaps knew Lord Fairfax better, and
the reasons for his abandonment of his own country, than she cared to
tell.
He began to wonder, quite naturally, where the Earl was bound; and
suddenly it came to him in a flash--"He is going to pay his respects to
my mother." In another instant he was on his feet and speeding like a
deer through the woods towards home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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