dreamed dreams； beheld a delectable country of my very own。 A year ago
nay； even a month agohow such an invitation would have glittered！。。。 I
returned at length to my theme； over which； before Jerry's arrival； I had
been working feverishly。 But now the glamour had gone from it。
Presently Tom came in。
〃Anyone been here？〃 he demanded。
〃Jerry；〃 I told him。
〃What did he want？〃
〃He wanted me to go home with him at Easter。〃
〃You're going； of course。〃
〃I don't know。 I haven't decided。〃
〃You'd be a fool not to；〃 was Tom's comment。 It voiced； succinctly； a
prevailing opinion。
It was the conclusion I arrived at in my own mind。 But just why I had
been chosen for the honour； especially at such a time； was a riddle。
Jerry's invitations were charily given； and valued accordingly； and more
than once； at our table； I had felt a twinge of envy when Conybear or
someone else had remarked； with the proper nonchalance； in answer to a
question； that they were going to Weathersfield。 Such was the name of
the Kyme place。。。。
I shall never forget the impression made on me by the decorous luxury of
that big house； standing amidst its old trees； halfway up the gentle
slope that rose steadily from the historic highway where poor Andre was
captured。 I can see now the heavy stone pillars of its portico vignetted
in a flush of tenderest green； the tulips just beginning to flame forth
their Easter colours in the well…kept beds； the stately； well…groomed
evergreens； the vivid lawns； the clipped hedges。 And like an
overwhelming wave of emotion that swept all before it； the impressiveness
of wealth took possession of me。 For here was a kind of wealth I had
never known； that did not exist in the West； nor even in the still
Puritan environs of Boston where I had visited。 It took itself for
granted； proclaimed itself complacently to have solved all problems。 By
ignoring them； perhaps。 But I was too young to guess this。 It was order
personified； gaining effect at every turn by a multitude of details too
trivial to mention were it not for the fact that they entered deeply into
my consciousness； until they came to represent； collectively； the very
flower of achievement。 It was a wealth that accepted tribute calmly； as
of inherent right。 Law and tradition defended its sanctity more
effectively than troops。 Literature descended from her high altar to
lend it dignity； and the long； silent library displayed row upon row of
the masters； appropriately clad in morocco or calf；Smollett； Macaulay；
Gibbon； Richardson； Fielding； Scott； Dickens； Irving and Thackeray； as
though each had striven for a tablet here。 Art had denied herself that
her canvases might be hung on these walls； and even the Church； on that
first Sunday of my visit； forgot the blood of her martyrs that she might
adorn an appropriate niche in the setting。 The clergyman； at one of the
dinner parties； gravely asked a blessing as upon an Institution that
included and absorbed all other institutions in its being。。。。
The note of that house was a tempered gaiety。 Guests arrived from New
York； spent the night and departed again without disturbing the even
tenor of its ways。 Unobtrusive servants ministered to their wants；and
to mine。。。。
Conybear was there； and two classmates from Boston； and we were treated
with the amiable tolerance accorded to college youths and intimates of
the son of the house。 One night there was a dance in our honour。 Nor
have I forgotten Jerry's sister； Nathalie； whom I had met at Class Days；
a slim and willowy； exotic young lady of the Botticelli type； with a
crown of burnished hair； yet more suggestive of a hothouse than of
spring。 She spoke English with a French accent。 Capricious； impulsive；
she captured my interest because she put a high value on her favour； she
drove me over the hills； informing me at length that I was sympathique
different from the rest； in short； she emphasized and intensified what I
may call the Weathersfield environment； stirred up in me new and vague
aspirations that troubled yet excited me。
Then there was Mrs。 Kyme； a pretty； light…hearted lady； still young； who
seemed to have no intention of growing older； who romped and played songs
for us on the piano。 The daughter of an old but now impecunious
Westchester family； she had been born to adorn the position she held； she
was adapted by nature to wring from it the utmost of the joys it offered。
From her； rather than from her husband； both of the children seemed to
have inherited。 I used to watch Mr。 Grosvenor Kyme as he sat at the end
of the dinner…table； dark； preoccupied； taciturn； symbolical of a wealth
new to my experience； and which had about it a certain fabulous quality。
It toiled not； neither did it spin； but grew as if by magic； day and
night； until the very conception of it was overpowering。 What must it be
to have had ancestors who had been clever enough to sit still until a
congested and discontented Europe had begun to pour its thousands and
hundreds of thousands into the gateway of the western world； until that
gateway had become a metropolis？ ancestors； of course； possessing what
now suddenly appeared to me as the most desirable of giftssince it
reaped so dazzling a harvest…business foresight。 From time to time these
ancestors had continued to buy desirable corners； which no amount of
persuasion had availed to make them relinquish。 Lease them； yes； sell
them； never！ By virtue of such a system wealth was as inevitable as
human necessity； and the thought of human necessity did not greatly
bother me。 Mr。 Kyme's problem of life was not one of making money； but
of investing it。 One became automatically a personage。。。。
It was due to one of those singular coincidencesso interesting a
subject for speculationthat the man who revealed to me this golden
romance of the Kyme family was none other than a resident of my own city；
Mr。 Theodore Watling； now become one of our most important and
influential citizens； a corporation lawyer； new and stimulating
qualification； suggesting as it did； a deus ex machina of great affairs。
That he； of all men； should come to Weathersfield astonished me； since I
was as yet to make the connection between that finished； decorous；
secluded existence and the source of its being。 The evening before my
departure he arrived in company with two other gentlemen； a Mr。 Talbot
and a Mr。 Saxes； whose names were spoken with respect in a sphere of
which I had hitherto taken but little cognizance…Wall Street。 Conybear
informed me that they were 〃magnates；〃。。。 We were sitting in the
drawing…room at tea； when they entered with Mr。 Watling； and no sooner
had he spoken to Mrs。 Kyme than his quick eye singled me out of the
group。
〃Why； Hugh！〃 he exclaimed； taking my hand。 〃I had no idea I should meet
you hereI saw your father only last week； the day I left home。〃 And he
added； turning to Mrs。 Kyme； 〃Hugh is the son of Mr。 Matthew Paret； who
has been the leader of our bar for many years。〃
The recognition and the tribute to my father were so graciously given
that I warmed with gratitude and pride； while Mr。 Kyme smiled a little；
remarking that I was a friend of Jerry's。 Theodore Watling； for being
here； had suddenly assumed in my eyes a considerable consequence； though
the note he struck in that house was a strange one。 It was； however； his
own note； and had a certain distinction； a ring of independence； of the
knowledge of self…worth。 Dinner at Weathersfield we youngsters had
usually found rather an oppressive ceremony； with its shaded lights and
precise ritual over which Mr。 Kyme presided like a high priest；
conversation had been restrained。 That night； as Johnnie Laurens
afterwards expressed it； 〃things loosened up；〃 and Mr。 Watling was
responsible for the loosening。 Taking command of the Kyme dinner table
appeared to me to be no mean achievement； but this is just what he did；
without being vulgar or noisy or assertive。 Suavitar in modo； forbiter
in re。 If； as I watched him there with a newborn pride and loyalty； I
had paused to reconstruct the idea that the mention of his name would
formerly have evoked； I suppose I should have found him falling short of
my notion of a gentleman； it had been my father's opinion； but Mr。
Watling's marriage to Gene Hollister's aunt had given him a standing with
us at home。 He possessed virility； vitality in a remarkable degree； yet
some elusive quality that was neither tact nor delicacythough related
to these differentiated him from the commonplace； self…made man of
ability。 He was just off the type。 To liken him to a clothing store
model of a well…built； broad…shouldered man with a firm neck； a handsome；
rather square face not lacking in colour and a conventional； drooping
moustache would be slanderous； yet he did suggest it。 Suggesting it； he
redeemed it： and the middle western burr in his voice was rather
attractive than otherwise。 He had not so much the air of belonging
there； as of belonging anywhereone of those anomalistic American
citizens of the world who go abroad and make intimates of princes。
Before the meal was over he had inspired me with loyalty and pri