serious, his joy when Bess blushingly told him the news was a pleasure to
see. And Grafton turned to revenge; he went to Mr. Carvel with the paper
he had taken from the strong-box and claimed that my mother was of
spurious birth and not fit to marry a Carvel. He afterwards spread the
story secretly among the friends of the family. By good fortune little
harm arose therefrom, since all who knew my mother loved her, and were
willing to give her credit for the doubt; many, indeed, thought the story
sprang from Grafton's jealousy and hatred. Then it was that Mr. Carvel
gave to Grafton the estate in Kent County and bade him shift for himself,
saying that he washed his hands of a son who had acted such a part.

But Captain Clapsaddle came to the wedding in the long drawing-room at
the Hall and stood by Captain Jack when he was married, and kissed the
bride heartily. And my mother cried about this afterwards, and said that
it grieved her sorely that she should have given pain to such a noble
man.

After the blow which left her a widow, she continued to keep Mr. Carvel's
home. I recall her well, chiefly as a sad and beautiful woman, stately
save when she kissed me with passion and said that I bore my father's
look. She drooped like the flower she was, and one spring day my
grandfather led me to receive her blessing and to be folded for the last
time in those dear arms. With a smile on her lips she rose to heaven to
meet my father. And she lies buried with the rest of the Carvels at the
Hall, next to the brave captain, her husband.

And so I grew up with my grandfather, spending the winters in town and
the long summers on the Eastern Shore. I loved the country best, and the
old house with its hundred feet of front standing on the gentle slope
rising from the river's mouth, the green vines Mr. Carvel had fetched
from England all but hiding the brick, and climbing to the angled roof;
and the velvet green lawn of silvery grass brought from England,
descending gently terrace by terrace to the waterside, where lay our
pungies and barges. There was then a tiny pillared porch framing the
front door, for our ancestors never could be got to realize the Maryland
climate, and would rarely build themselves wide verandas suitable to that
colony. At Carvel Hall we had, to be sure, the cool spring house under
the willows for sultry days, with its pool dished out for bathing; and a
trellised arbour, and octagonal summer house with seats where