Rawdons ought to live--like one family."
"I am of your opinion, John Thomas," said the Squire, rising, and as he
did so he looked at the Judge, who immediately indorsed the proposal.
One after the other rose with sweet and strong assent, until there was
only Tyrrel Rawdon's voice lacking. But when all had spoken he rose
also, and said:
"I am Tyrrel Rawdon's direct descendant, and I speak for him when I say
to-day, 'Make room for me among my kindred!' He that loves much may be
forgiven much."
Then the housekeeper was called, and they went slowly, with soft words,
up to the third story of the house. And the room unused for a century
was flung wide open; the shutters were unbarred, and the sunshine
flooded it; and there amid his fishing tackle, guns, and whips, and
faded ballads upon the wall, and books of wood lore and botany, and
dress suits of velvet and satin, and hunting suits of scarlet--all faded
and falling to pieces--stood the picture of Tyrrel Rawdon, with its face
turned to the wall. The Squire made a motion to his descendant, and the
young American tenderly turned it to the light. There was no decay on
those painted lineaments. The almost boyish face, with its loving eyes
and laughing mouth, was still twenty-four years old; and with a look of
pride and affection the Squire lifted the picture and placed it in the
hands of the Tyrrel Rawdon of the day.
The hanging of the picture in its old place was a silent and tender
little ceremony, and after it the party separated. Mrs. Rawdon went
with Ruth to rest a little. She said "she had a headache," and she also
wanted a good womanly talk over the affair. The Squire, Judge Rawdon,
Mr. Nicholas Rawdon, and John Thomas returned to the dining-room to
drink a bottle of such mild Madeira as can only now be found in the
cellars of old county magnates, and Ethel and Tyrrel Rawdon strolled
into the garden. There had not been in either mind any intention of
leaving the party, but as they passed through the hall Tyrrel saw
Ethel's garden hat and white parasol lying on a table, and, impelled by
some sudden and unreasoned instinct, he offered them to her. Not a word
of request was spoken; it was the eager, passionate command of his
eyes she obeyed. And for a few minutes they were speechless, then so
intensely conscious that words stumbled and were lame, and they managed
only syllables at a time. But he took her hand, and they came by sunny
alleys of boxwood to a great plan
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