Then, being of an ardently affectionate nature, and having now no one to restrain it, he began to study his children with more anxious care, and consider their well-being with all his might.

The children of middle-aged people seem occasionally to come into the world ready tamed.  With a certain old-fashioned primness, they step sedately through the paths of childhood.  So good, so easy to manage, so—­uninteresting?

The children of the very young have sometimes an extra allowance of their father’s youth in their blood.  At any rate the little Mortimers had.

Their joy was ecstatic, their play was fervent, and as hard as any work.  They seemed month by month to be crowding up to their father, in point of stature, and when he and they all went about the garden together, some would be treading on his heels, the select two who had hold of his arms would be shouting in his ears, and the others, dancing in front, were generally treading on his toes, in their desire to get as near as possible and inform him of all the wonderful things that were taking place in this new and remarkable world.

Into this family the lonely little heir of the Melcombes was shortly invited to come for awhile, but for some trivial reason his mother declined the invitation, at the same time expressing her hope that Mr. Mortimer would kindly renew it some other time.

It was not convenient to John Mortimer to invite the boy again for a long time—­so long that his mother bitterly repented not having accepted the first invitation.  She had an aunt living at Dartmouth, and whenever her boy was invited by John Mortimer, she meant to bring him herself, giving out that she was on her way to visit that relative.

Who knew what might happen?

Mr. John Mortimer was a fine man, tall, broad-shouldered, and substantial-looking, though not at all stout.  His perfect health and teeth as white as milk made him look even younger than he was.  His countenance, without being decidedly handsome, was fine and very agreeable.  His hair was light, of the Saxon hue, and his complexion was fair.

Thus he had many advantages; but Mrs. Peter Melcombe felt that as the mother of a child so richly endowed, and as the possessor of eight hundred a year in order that he might be suitably brought up, she was a desirable match also.  She did not mean the boy to cost her much for several years to come, and till he came of age (if he lived) she had that handsome old house to live in.  Old Augustus Mortimer, on the other hand, was very rich, she knew; he was a banker and his only son was his partner.  Sure to inherit his banking business and probably heir to his land.

Mrs. Peter Melcombe had some handsome and becoming raiment made, and waited with impatience; for in addition to Mr. John Mortimer’s worldly advantages she found him attractive.