It was a very large old edifice of white stone, and stood upon the extreme point of a headland running out into the river.  There were many trees behind it, landward; but none before it, seaward; so that really the tall white house, with its many windows, might well serve as a beacon to passing vessels.

Around the headland upon which it was situated the waters swept with a mighty impetus and a deafening roar that gave the place its descriptive name of Rushy Shore.  As the air and water here were mildly salt, the situation was deemed very healthy and well suited to such delicate lungs as required a stimulating atmosphere, and yet could not bear the full strength of the sea breezes.  As such the place had been selected by Mr. Middleton for the residence of his invalid wife.

When Ishmael approached the house he found the family all assembled in the long front porch to enjoy the fine view.

Walter Middleton, who was the first to spy Ishmael’s approach, ran down the steps and out to meet him, exclaiming, as he caught and shook his hand: 

“How are you, old boy, how are you?  Looking in high health and handsomeness, at any rate!  I should have come down to school to see you, Ishmael, only, on the very morning after our arrival, I had to mount my horse and ride down to Baymouth to attend to some business for my father, and I did not get back until late last night.  Come, hurry on to the house!  My mother is anxious to see her old favorite.”

And so, overpowering Ishmael with the cordiality of his greeting, Walter drew his friend’s arm within his own, and took him upon the porch in the midst of the family group, that immediately surrounded and warmly welcomed him.

“How handsome and manly you have grown, my dear,” said Mrs. Middleton, with almost motherly pride in her favorite.

Ishmael blushed and bowed in reply to this direct compliment.  And soon he was seated among them, chatting pleasantly.

This was but the first of many delightful visits to Bushy Shore enjoyed by Ishmael.  Mr. Middleton liked to have him there, and often pressed him to come.  And Ishmael, who very well knew the difference between invitations given from mere politeness and those prompted by a sincere desire for his company, frequently accepted them.

One day Mr. Middleton, who took a deep interest in the struggles of Ishmael, said to him: 

“You should enter some law school, my young friend.”

“I intend to do so, sir, as soon as I have accomplished two things.”

“And what are they?”

“Saved money enough to defray my expenses and found a substitute for myself as master of this little school.”

“Oh, bother the school! you must not always be sacrificing yourself to the public welfare, Ishmael,” laughed Mr. Middleton, who sometimes permitted himself to use rough words.

“But to duty, sir?”

“Oh, if you make it a question of duty, I have no more to say,” was the concluding remark of Ishmael’s friend.