That versatile and considerate gentleman, having had his draught, cried to
the coachman to go on, and was beginning upon the question of the militia,
when Haward, who had dismounted, appeared at the coach door. "I do not
think that I will go on to Williamsburgh with you, sir," he said. "There's
some troublesome business with my overseer that ought not to wait. If I
take this road and the planter's pace, I shall reach Fair View by sunset.
You do not return to Westover this week? Then I shall see you at
Williamsburgh within a day or two. Evelyn, good-day."
Her hand lay upon the cushion nearest him. He would have taken it in his
own, as for years he had done when he bade her good-by; but though she
smiled and gave him "Good-day" in her usual voice, she drew the hand away.
The Colonel's eyebrows went up another fraction of an inch, but he was a
discreet gentleman who had bought experience. Skillfully unobservant, his
parting words were at once cordial and few in number; and after Haward had
mounted and had turned into the side road, he put his handsome, periwigged
head out of the coach window and called to him some advice about the
transplanting of tobacco. This done, and the horseman out of sight, and
the coach once more upon its leisurely way to Williamsburgh, the model
father pulled out of his pocket a small book, and, after affectionately
advising his daughter to close her eyes and sleep out the miles to
Williamsburgh, himself retired with Horace to the Sabine farm.