for he foresaw in which column Elmville would place the credit. “We congratulate Governor Pemberton upon the mark of appreciation conferred upon his Son”—“Elmville rejoices with our honoured citizen, Governor Pemberton, at his son’s success”—“Put her there, Billy!”—“Judge Billy Pemberton, sir; son of our State’s war hero and the people’s pride!”—these were the phrases, printed and oral, conjured up by Billy’s prophetic fancy. Grandson of his State, and stepchild to Elmville—thus had fate fixed his kinship to the body politic.
Billy lived with his father in the old mansion. The two and an elderly lady—a distant relative—comprised the family. Perhaps, though, old Jeff, the Governor’s ancient coloured body-servant, should be included. Without doubt, he would have claimed the honour. There were other servants, but Thomas Jefferson Pemberton, sah, was a member of “de fambly.”
Jeff was the one Elmvillian who gave to Billy the gold of approval unmixed with the alloy of paternalism. To him “Mars William” was the greatest man in Talbot County. Beaten upon though he was by the shining light that emanates from an ex-war governor, and loyal as he remained to the old régime, his faith and admiration were Billy’s. As valet to a hero, and a member of the family, he may have had superior opportunities for judging.
Jeff was the first one to whom Billy revealed the news. When he reached home for supper Jeff took his “plug” hat and smoothed it before hanging it upon the hall-rack.
“Dar now!” said the old man; “I knowed it was er
