The conductor came in and remained, awaiting
orders. "Two minutes more, Mr. Jefferson," he said. "One and a
half----one half a minute." He spoke sternly: "Pull out at 8:14 on the
second, sir. Ah----"
The porter entered hurriedly, and delivered a handful of envelopes into
Grandfather Cornelius's grasp. The old gentleman scanned them at a
glance.
"Yes--yes--all right!" he cried, with the strongest evidences of
excitement Cyrus had ever seen in his usually imperturbable manner. As
the train made its first gentle motion of departure, a figure appeared
in the doorway. Quietly, not at all out of breath, and with precisely
his own nonchalant manner, Cornelius Woodbridge 3d walked into the car.
Then Grandfather Woodbridge grew impressive. He advanced and shook hands
with his grandson as if he were greeting a distinguished member of the
board of directors. Then he turned to his son and shook hands with him
also, solemnly. His eyes shone through his gold-rimmed spectacles, but
his voice was grave with feeling.
"I congratulate you, Cornelius," he said, "on possessing two sons whose
word of honour is of the sort to satisfy the Hezekiah Woodbridge
standard.
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