Herbert Carter's Legacy; Or, the Inventor's Son by Jr. Horatio Alger (top reads .TXT) 📕

up the pants and coat-sleeves. It will be fun to see you parading round in your uncle's tailcoats.”

“I don't think you'll have that pleasure,” said Herbert, flushing. “If I wear them I shall have them made over for me.”

“I congratulate you on your new and extensive wardrobe,” said James, mockingly. “Won't you cut a dash, though, on the streets of Wrayburn!”

Herbert did not deign a reply to this rude speech. Tom Spencer, who was much more of a gentleman than James, was disgusted with his impertinence. He rose, and took Herbert by the hand.

“You must let me introduce myself,” he said. “My name is Thomas Spencer, and I am glad to see you here.”

“Thank you,” said Herbert, his heart opening at the frank and cordial manner of the other. “My name is Herbert Carter, and I am very glad to make your acquaintance.”

“Are you going to finish this game, Tom?” drawled James, not relishing the idea of Herbert's receiving any attention from his friend.

“If you don't mind, we'll have it another time,” said Tom. “There goes the supper bell, and I for one am hungry.”

At the supper table James noticed, to his secret disgust, that Herbert was treated with as much consideration as himself. Mr. and Mrs. Spencer appeared to consider them social equals, which made James very uncomfortable.

“You boys are about of an age, I suppose,” said Mr. Spencer.

“I really don't know,” said James, haughtily.

“You attend the same school?”

“Yes,” said James, “but I expect to go to some select academy very soon. At a public school you have to associate with all classes, you know.”

Mr. Spencer arched his brows, and steadily regarded the young aristocrat.

“I don't see any great distinction of classes in a country village,” said he, dryly. “Besides, we are living in a republic.”

“You wouldn't like to associate on equal terms with a day laborer,” said James, pertly.

“I am a laborer myself,” said the lawyer, smiling. “I wish I could say I were a day laborer exclusively, but sometimes I have to work into the night.”

“You are a professional man, and a gentleman,” said James. “You don't work with your hands.”

“I hope you boys will all grow up gentlemen,” said Mr. Spencer.

“I shall, of course,” said James.

“And you, Tom?”

“I hope so.”

“And you, Herbert?”

“I hope so, too,” said Herbert; “but if it is necessary to be rich to be a gentleman, I am not sure about it.”

“What is your idea of a gentleman, James?” asked the lawyer.

“He must be of a good family, and wear good clothes, and live nicely.”

“Is that all?”

“He ought to be well educated.”

“I see you name that last which I should name first. So these constitute a gentleman, in your opinion?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Not always. I have known men combining all the qualifications you have mentioned, who were very far from being gentlemen, in my opinion.”

“How is that, sir?” asked James, puzzled.

“They were arrogant, puffed up with an idea of their own importance, deficient in politeness.”

“How well he has described James!” thought Herbert, but he was too much of a gentleman to say so.

James looked disconcerted, and dropped the subject. He thought the lawyer had some queer ideas. Why need a gentleman be polite to his inferiors? he thought, but he didn't say so.

After supper the boys went out behind the house, and feasted on peaches, which were just ripe. Herbert found Tom very social, but James took very little notice of him. Our hero did not make himself unhappy on this account. In fact, he was in unusual good spirits, and enjoyed in anticipation the pleasure of going back to Wrayburn with the welcome news of the two legacies.

About half past seven Mr. Spencer came out into the orchard.

“As the stage starts early in the morning, Herbert,” he said, “we had better go over and get the trunk ready, so that you can take it home.”

James Leech hoped to receive an invitation to accompany the two; but no invitation was given, and he was forced to content himself with staying behind.