Wayfaring Men

I wonder what will become of Ralph Denmead," said Lady Tresidder, "it is one of the saddest cases I ever heard of; the poor boy seems to be left without a single relation." "Yes," said Sir John, musingly. "Just the way with these old decayed families, they dwindle slowly away and then become extinct. There was no spirit or energy in poor Denmead, the man was a mere hermit and knew nothing of the world or he wouldn't have made such a mull of his affairs." "Yet Ralph seems to have the energy of ten people," said Lady Tresidder, glancing as she walked at the river which wound its peaceful way through the park and reflected in the afternoon light the early spring tints of the wooded bank on its further side. At no great distance a boat glided swiftly over the calm water: in the stern sat a dark-haired, handsome girl of nineteen, while the vigorous little rower seemed to be not more than eleven. "Poor little chap," said Sir John, "he is terribly cut up about his father's death. I wish we could have kept him here a few days longer, but it's better that he should be put at once into his guardian's hands. There's no fear that Sir Matthew Mactavish will not do all that's right for him, if only for the sake of his own reputation." "I suppose he is a very charitable man," said Lady Tresidder.