They had paused longest by the graves of Ruel Saxon's people, and again as they left the place he lingered for a moment by the low gray line of stones. "They were God-fearing men and women, all of them," he said, with tender reverence in his voice; then, lifting his face, he added, with inexpressible pride and solemnity:--
"My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth, But higher far my proud pretensions rise-- The son of parents passed into the skies."
That was the last word spoken before they let down the bars in the old stone wall and made their way back to their horses. Possibly the young man, who was so anxious to establish his family record, may have caught, at that moment, a new thought of ancestral honors.
It had been a full afternoon, and it was a late one when they reached the farmhouse. Mr. Hadley would have mounted to his buggy at once after helping Stella down, but the deacon interposed.
"Why, it's high time for supper," he said, "and you mustn't drive back to Hartridge without having a bite to eat, you or your horses either."
"Of course not," said Stella, cordially. "We count on your staying to supper." And then she added archly, "I really think you ought, for the sake of your great-great-grandfather."
"Whom your great-great-grandmother could never get rid of?" he replied, laughing. "I'm not sure but on his account I ought to go, to convince you that his descendants at least can turn their backs on pleasure."
But he did not insist on doing it, and it is extremely doubtful whether Jabez Bridgewood ever enjoyed a meal under the old roof more than Philip Hadley enjoyed the one that followed. The fact was, both Stella and her mother had foreseen that the delays and digressions of the old gentleman in showing his party around would consume the afternoon, and bring the young man back at about this time. They had conferred carefully as to the setting of the table in the best old-fashioned china, with a pretty mingling of Stella's hand-painted pieces; the menu had been settled to a nicety in advance, and the delicate French salad, which Mr. Hadley pronounced the best he had ever tasted, had been compounded by Stella herself before leaving the house.