ures,therewasonethingtolerablycertain—Iwasinnodangerofencounteringseveredisappointmentfromthis,themoderationofmyexpectationsguaranteedme.IanticipatednooverflowingsoffraternaltendernessEdward’slettershadalwaysbeensuchastopreventtheengenderingorharbouringofdelusionsofthissort.Still,asIsatawaitinghisarrival,Ifelteager—veryeager—Icannottellyouwhymyhand,soutterlyastrangertothegraspofakindredhand,clencheditselftorepressthetremorwithwhichimpatiencewouldfainhaveshakenit.
“IthoughtofmyunclesandasIwasengagedinwonderingwhetherEdward’sindifferencewouldequalthecolddisdainIhadalwaysexperiencedfromthem,Iheardtheavenuegatesopen:wheelsapproachedthehouseMr.Crimsworthwasarrivedandafterthelapseofsomeminutes,andabriefdialoguebetweenhimselfandhisservantinthehall,histreaddrewnearthelibrarydoor—thattreadaloneannouncedthemasterofthehouse.
“IstillretainedsomeconfusedrecollectionofEdwardashewastenyearsago—atall,wiry,rawyouthNOW,asIrosefrommyseatandturnedtowardsthelibrarydoor,Isawafine-lookingandpowerfulman,light-complexioned,well-made,andofathleticproportionsthefirstglancemademeawareofanairofpromptitudeandsharpness,shownaswellinhismovementsasinhisport,hiseye,andthegeneralexpressionofhisface.Hegreetedmewithbrevity,and,inthemomentofshakinghands,scannedmefromheadtofoothetookhisseatinthemoroccocoveredarm-chair,andmotionedmetoanotherseat.
“‘Iexpectedyouwouldhavecalledatthecounting-houseintheClose,’saidheandhisvoice,Inoticed,hadanabruptaccent,probablyhabitualtohimhespokealsowithagutturalnortherntone,whichsoundedharshinmyears,accustomedtothesilveryutteranceoftheSouth.
“‘Thelandlordoftheinn,wherethecoachstopped,directedmehere,’saidI.‘Idoubtedatfirsttheaccuracyofhisinformation,notbeingawarethatyouhadsucharesidenceasthis.’
“‘Oh,itisallright!’hereplied,‘onlyIwaskepthalfanhourbehindtime,waitingforyou—thatisall.Ithoughtyoumustbecomingbyth