“That I call hearty,--downright hearty,--Maitland.” Maitland actually started at this familiar mention of him by one whom he had never met till a few days before. “Rather a rare event in your life to be up at this hour, I 'll be sworn,--except when you have n't been to bed, eh?” And he laughed heartily at what he fancied was a most witty conceit. “You see we 're all off! We 've had springs on our cables these last twenty-four hours, with this frolicsome old woman, who would insist on being back for her birthday; but she 's rich, Maitland, immensely rich, and we all worship her!” Maitland gave a faint shrug of the shoulders, as though he deplored the degeneracy, but couldn't help it. “Yes, yes; I 'm coming,” cried the Commodore, shouting from the open window to his daughters beneath. “The girls are impatient; they want to be at Lesliesford when the others are crossing. There's a fresh on the river, and it 's better to get some stout fellows to guide the carriages through the water. I wanted greatly to have five minutes alone with you,--five would do; half of it, perhaps, between men of the world, as we are. You know about what.” “I suspect I do,” said Maitland, quietly. “I saw, too,” resumed Graham, “that you wished to have no talk about it here, amongst all these gossiping people. Was n't I right?” “Perfectly right; you appreciated me thoroughly.” “What I said was this,--Maitland knows the world well. He 'll wait till he has his opportunity of talking the matter over with myself. He 'll say, 'Graham and I will understand one another at once.' One minute; only one,” screamed he out from the window. “Could n't you come down and just say a word or two to them? They 'd like it so much.” Maitland muttered something about his costume. “Ah! there it is. You fellows will never be seen till you are in full fig. Well, I must be off. Now, then, to finish what we 've been saying. You 'll come over next week to Port-Graham,--that's my little place, though there's no port, nor anything like a port, within ten miles of it,--and we 'll arrange everything. If I 'm an old fellow, Maitland, I don't forget that I was once a young one,--mind that, my boy.” And the Commodore had to wipe his eyes, with the laughter at his drollery. “Yes; here I am,” cried he, again; and then turning to Maitland, shook his hand in both his own, repeating, “On Wednesday,--Wednesday to dinner,--not later than five, remember,”--he hastened down the stairs, and scrambled up on the car beside his eldest daughter, who apparently had already opened a floodgate of attack on him for his delay.