sed only the broadest
Scotch. When Tom had met Henry in his ingenuous days he threatened to be
overwhelmed by the calm indifference of Henry's manner. The Whitman Air,
inherited from a line of distinguished forebears, all but swamped him.
It was as perfect and finished as some smooth old bit of jade, and as
hard; a "piece" to be carefully handled, admirable only to the
initiated. Tom had not yet, in the course of his initiation, come to
find it admirable, although he quite appreciated its authenticity.
Harry's father, of the same name, had been one of the College's chief
luminaries in the preceding Administration, known wherever Political
Economy, as such, was known. _His_ father before him had produced the
Whitman Woollen Mills, which supported Whitmanville, and though they
were at present in the hands of an uncle and various cousins, their
beneficent influence was obviously felt by Henry. Everything about him
suggested comfort and nourishment. There was in his eye a look which
implied intimacy with beagle-hunting in Derbyshire, and the way he used
his hands positively suggested candle light at dinner. The
knickerbockers that he wore gave out a delightful heathery smell, a
smell which is at its best when mingled, as at present, with the smell
of superior pipe tobacco. His stockings would naturally be objects of
curiosity to anyone familiar with the Whitman Mills, just as the pearls
around the neck of a famous jeweller's wife would be, or the soap in the
tub of a famous soap-maker. They were, as a matter of fact, excellent
stockings of the heaviest, woolliest kind, and Whitman had bought them a
year and a half ago in Scotland, whither he had gone after his wife's
death. He still wore a mourning band about his arm in her honour, and a
black knitted tie; and there was every reason to believe that he would
continue to do so another year and a half. For the Whitmans always had
mourned hard.

The girl on the sofa was a thoroughly healthy person of twenty-four. She
played excellent female tennis, and her golf was better than that of
half of the male members at the club. Yet she had none of the mannish
mannerisms that so often accompany an "athletic" girl. At the present
time she was submitting herself to a rigorous course in "housekeeping"
majoring in cooking and minoring in accounting, and she had taught
Sunday School ever since she had been graduated from Miss Hammond's
School at Mill Rock some six years ago. People instinc