Thus was he introduced at public gatherings where he sometimes spoke, haltingly and prosily, for his talents were too serious and deep for extempore brilliancy; thus was he presented to strangers and to the lawyers who made the circuit of the courts; and so the Daily Banner referred to him in print.  To be “the son of” was his doom.  What ever he should accomplish would have to be sacrificed upon the altar of this magnificent but fatal parental precedence.

The peculiarity and the saddest thing about Billy’s ambition was that the only world he thirsted to conquer was Elmville.  His nature was diffident and unassuming.  National or State honours might have oppressed him.  But, above all things, he hungered for the appreciation of the friends among whom he had been born and raised.  He would not have plucked one leaf from the garlands that were so lavishly bestowed upon his father, he merely rebelled against having his own wreathes woven from those dried and self-same branches.  But Elmville “Billied” and “sonned” him to his concealed but lasting chagrin, until at length he grew more reserved and formal and studious than ever.

There came a morning when Billy found among his mail a letter from a very high source, tendering him the appointment to an important judicial position in the new island possessions of our country.  The honour was a distinguished one, for the entire nation had discussed the probable recipients of these positions, and had agreed that the situation demanded only men of the highest character, ripe learning, and evenly balanced mind.

Billy could not subdue a certain exultation at this token of the success of his long and arduous labours, but, at the same time, a whimsical smile lingered around his mouth, for he foresaw in which column Elmville would place the credit.  “We congratulate Governor Pemberton upon the mark of appreciation conferred upon his son”—­“Elmville rejoices with our honoured citizen, Governor Pemberton, at his son’s success”—­“Put her there, Billy!”—­“Judge Billy Pemberton, sir; son of our State’s war hero and the people’s pride!”—­these were the phrases, printed and oral, conjured up by Billy’s prophetic fancy.  Grandson of his State, and stepchild to Elmville—­thus had fate fixed his kinship to the body politic.

Billy lived with his father in the old mansion.  The two and an elderly lady—­a distant relative—­comprised the family.  Perhaps, though, old Jeff, the Governor’s ancient coloured body-servant, should be included.  Without doubt, he could have claimed the honour.  There were other servants, but Thomas Jefferson Pemberton, sah, was a member of “de fambly.”

Jeff was the one Elmvillian who gave to Billy the gold of approval unmixed with the alloy of paternalism.  To him “Mars William” was the greatest man in Talbot County.  Beaten upon though he was by the shining light that emanates from an ex-war governor, and loyal as he remained to the old regime, his faith and admiration were Billy’s.  As valet to a hero, and a member of the family, he may have had superior opportunities for judging.