"Mr. Geoffrey, Sir Alexander Moncton, my master's cousin, sir, is in the dining-room, waiting to see you; and the dinner, sir, is waiting, too. I told him, sir, that we expected Mr. Moncton home this evening, and he bade his valet bring up his portmanteau from the hotel, and said that he would wait here till master returned."

"Thank you, Saunders, for your information," cried I, hurrying off to my chamber to dress for dinner.

The Monctons: A Novel, Volume I — Part 71

I felt greatly excited at the prospect of the approaching interview with the great man of the family, who might prove a powerful friend to his friendless relative.

The Monctons: A Novel, Volume I — Part 71

My uncle was from home, which would afford me an opportunity of speaking for myself. I was anxious to make a favourable impression on Sir Alexander, and took an unusual degree of pains with my toilet.

The Monctons: A Novel, Volume I — Part 71

I joined Sir Alexander in the drawing-room, just as the footman announced that dinner was on the table.

Sir Alexander received me, and my apologies for detention in the office, with a mighty good grace, shook me warmly by the hand, and accompanied me into the dining-room, with the air of a man who was determined not to be cheated out of his dinner, and anxious to make up for lost time.

I did the honours as well as I could; but not without committing sundry awkward blunders; greatly to the horror of Saunders, who with toe and elbow, gave me various silent hints upon the subject, as he glided noiselessly to and fro. This only increased my confusion, but, fortunately, my worthy relative was too much engrossed with his dinner, to notice the trifling omissions, which poor Saunders considered of such immense importance.

I was greatly relieved when the cloth was removed; and the wine and glasses were placed upon the table, and Sir Alexander and I were left alone to improve our acquaintance.

He commenced the conversation by introducing the very subject uppermost in my mind.

"Did I mistake you, young gentleman, or did you tell me, that you were a son of the late Edward Moncton?"

"I was not aware of his marriage--still less that he left a son. It is strange, that I should have been kept in ignorance of this important fact."

This was said half musingly. He then turned to me with a lively air.

"Your father, young gentleman, deeply offended me. It was a foolish affair; but it effectually severed the friendship of years. We repent of these things when it is too late. Had he been less violent, and less obstinate, a reconciliation might have been brought about. As it was--interested parties did their best to widen the breach.