He received me very cordially,
and in an instant cast off the abstracted manner I had noticed. His
father, he informed me, was gone--had died about seven months
previously, and he was alone now at Ash Farm--why didn't I run down
there to see him sometimes, &c.? Our conversation was interrupted by a
summons to dinner, very cheerfully complied with; and we both--at
least I can answer for myself--did ample justice to a more than
usually capital dinner, even in those capital old market-dinner times.
We were very jolly afterwards, and amazingly triumphant over the
frost-bitten, snow-buried soldier-banditti that had so long lorded it
over continental Europe. Dutton did not partake of the general
hilarity. There was a sneer upon his lip during the whole time, which,
however, found no expression in words.
'How quiet you are, James Dutton!' cried a loud voice from out the
dense smoke-cloud that by this time completely enveloped us. On
looking towards the spot from whence the ringing tones came, a jolly,
round face--like the sun as seen through a London fog--gleamed redly
dull from out the thick and choking atmosphere.
'Everybody,' rejoined Dutton, 'hasn't had the luck to sell two hundred
quarters of wheat at to-day's price, as you have, Tom Southall.'
'That's true, my boy,' returned Master Southall, sending, in the
plenitude of his satisfaction, a jet of smoke towards us with
astonishing force.
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