The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 118, August, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 118, August, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
"'Thank you,' he answered, and we walked away together. There was not
time for much talk, and he had said nothing of himself when we opened
the door. Satterlee was standing with his back to the fire, and no
sooner did he see my companion than he sprang forward, in eager welcome.
'Burton of Darrow, by all the gods!' he cried. 'Where's your hat, good
friend?'
"He of the golden locks burst into a merry laugh,--what white teeth he
had! 'It is gone forever. Do let me know your friend, who has been so
kind to me about it.'
"We were introduced to each other in due form, and Burton sat down at
our hearth like an old friend, chatting merrily, and warming his great
fists at the blaze. 'I ought not to have stayed so long,' he said
presently, 'my father will have waited for me. Can the hats be
marshalled, Mr. Erle?'
"I brought out all my store, and Satterlee's too, and, amid much
laughter, Burton managed to hide some of his mane under a soft felt, and
bade us good night. 'I must have you both at Darrow,' he said, his hand
on the latch; 'remember that, and expect a note in the morning to tell
you when to come.'
"As the door closed I laid my hands on Dick's shoulders. '_Who_ is he?'
was all I said.
"'Why, Gerald, you're waking up,' he answered. 'If the male Burton can
do this, what will not Lillie do?'
"'But who is he?' I repeated.
"'He's the oldest son of John Burton of Darrow, in ----shire. They are
farmers, and they might be gentlemen, but they are queer, and won't. For
generations untold they have cultivated their own land, and are mighty
men at the plough and in the saddle. So are the women of the family, for
that matter. But you will see when we go down. They are one of the few
great yeoman families left in the land. We shall have a jolly time.'
"'And who is Lillie?' I asked.
"'This man's sister. If you want to see a woman ride, see her,--it's
absolute perfection,--hereditary too: they all ride till they marry.'
"'And not afterwards?' I said, very much amused.
"'Never for mere pleasure, I believe. They have family traditions about
all sorts of things, this among others. It is some notion about taking
care of their homes and children, if I remember rightly. Miss Lillie
will tell you all about it. How lucky that you met Jack this afternoon.'
"This was all I could get out of Satterlee; but, dull as you may think
it, I was really interested, and waited impatiently for the coming
invitation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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