It was all very secret and
subtle and subterranean. But there was a nice young fellow called
Carter who was a sort of second-nephew of mine, twice removed.
He was handsome and dark and gentie and tall and modest. I
understand also that he was a good cricketer. He was employed by
the real-estate agents who collected my rents. It was he, therefore,
who took me over my own property and I saw a good deal of him
and of a nice girl called Mary, to whom he was engaged. At that
time I did, what I certainly shouldn't do now--I made some careful
inquiries as to his character. I discovered from his employers that
he was just all that he appeared, honest, industrious, high-spirited,
friendly and ready to do anyone a good turn. His relatives,
however, as they were mine, too--seemed to have something
darkly mysterious against him. I imagined that he must have been
mixed up in some case of graft or that he had at least betrayed
several innocent and trusting maidens. I pushed, however, that
particular mystery home and discovered it was only that he was a
Democrat. My own people were mostly Republicans. It seemed to
make it worse and more darkly mysterious to them that young
Carter was what they called a sort of a Vermont Democrat which
was the whole ticket and no mistake.
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