The Major admitted that he was an ugly fellow, and then, as a loud guffaw came to them from the rear, added, with that reasonable sense of justice which men possess and are pleased to call wisdom, that he seemed to be very civil and was, no doubt, a harmless good-natured creature. “I don’t know,” said Ruth, doubtfully. “I only hope I shall never set eyes on him again. I should die if I were to meet him alone.” “Oh, nonsense!” said her father, reassuringly. “They are the most good-natured, civil poor creatures in the world. I used to see them during the war.” The Major was still contesting Dr. Cary’s prejudices. CHAPTER XXVI MAJOR WELCH AND RUTH BECOME RESIDENTS It was yet early in the day, when the travellers drove up to Red Rock, and though there were certain things which showed that the place was not kept up as it had formerly been, it was far handsomer, and appeared to be more extensively cultivated, than any plantation they had yet seen. A long line of barns and stables lay at some little distance behind the mansion, half screened by the hill, and off to one side stretched a large garden with shrubbery, apparently somewhat neglected, at the far end of which was a grove or great thicket of evergreens and other trees. A tall man with a slight stoop in his shoulders came down the broad steps, and advanced to meet them as they drove up. “Is this Colonel Welch?” he asked. “Well, not exactly, but Major Welch,” said that gentleman, pleasantly, wondering how he could know him, “and you are—Mr. Still?” “Yes, sir, I’m the gentleman: I’m Mr. Still—Colonel Still, some of ’em calls me; but I’m like yourself, Colonel, I don’t care for titles. The madam, I suppose, sir?” he smiled, as he handed Ruth down. “No, my daughter, Miss Welch,” said the Major, a little stiffly, to Ruth’s amusement. “Ah! I thought she was a leetle young for you, Colonel; but sometimes we old fellows get a chance at a fresh covey and we most always try to pick a young bird. We’re real glad to see you, ma’am, and to have the honor of entertainin’ so fine a young lady in our humble home. My son Wash, the Doctor, ain’t at home this mornin’, but he’ll be back to-night, and he’ll know how to make you have a good time. He’s had advantages his daddy never had,” he explained. There was something almost pathetic, Major Welch thought, in this allusion to his son, and his recognition of his own failure to measure up to his standard. It made Major Welch overlook his vulgarity and his attempt to be familiar. And the Major decided anew that Hiram Still was not half as black as he had been painted, and that the opposition to him which he had discovered was nothing but prejudice.