Beta Book

"Why, there are my antlers!" cried the good-humored Squire. "Look,
Rushton! did you ever see finer!"
"Often," growled a voice in reply; and the Squire and his companion
entered.
Mr. Rushton was a rough-looking gentleman of fifty or fifty-five, with
a grim expression about the compressed lips, and heavy grey eyebrows,
from beneath which rolled two dark piercing eyes. His hair was slowly
retreating, and thought or care had furrowed his broad brow from
temple to temple. He was clad with the utmost rudeness, and resembled
nothing so much as a half-civilized bear.
He nodded curtly to Miss Lavinia, and took no notice whatever of
either Redbud or Verty.
"Why, thank for the antlers, Verty!" said the good-humored Squire.
"I saw Cloud, and knew you were here, but I had no idea that you had
brought me the horns."
And the Squire extended his hand to Verty, who took it with his old
dreamy smile.
"I could have brought a common pair any day," he said, "but I promised
the best, and there they are.


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