I tell you, there is a gulf between
us and that Englishman, wider than the one young Curtius leaped into."
Miss Laura was laughing merrily. "How funny that sounds, Harry. So he
despises you," and she glanced at her good-looking cousin, and his
handsome buggy and well-kept horse, and then burst into another merry
peal of laughter.
Mr. Harry laughed, too. "It does seem absurd. Sometimes when I pass him
jogging along to town in his rickety old cart, and look at his pale,
cruel face, and know that he is a broken-down gambler and man of the
world, and yet considers himself infinitely superior to me--a young man
in the prime of life, with a good constitution and happy prospects, it
makes me turn away to hide a smile."
By this time we had left the river and the meadows far behind us, and
were passing through a thick wood. The road was narrow and very broken,
and Fleetfoot was obliged to pick his way carefully. "Why does the
Englishman live in this out-of-the-way place, if he is so fond of city
life?" said Miss Laura.
"I don't know," said Mr. Harry. "Father is afraid that he has committed
some misdeed, and is in hiding; but we say nothing about it.
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