My mother and sister sat at the table with Mr.
McCarthy and me. The manners of the hand-
made gentleman became exceedingly formal.
He spoke only when spoken to, save when he
said:

9 199



The Hand-Made Gentleman

"May I be so bold as to ask for a glass of
water?"

When I suggested the subject of Sal, he be-
gan to relax, and went to his grip and grave-
ly presented my mother with a dozen balls
of it.
The breakfast over, my mother went below-
stairs with me to thank Mr. Pearl for his kind-
ness, but he was gone. I found her looking up
the river, where he was going out of sight, far
up the shaded avenue of water, in his canoe.
She looked very sad as I walked to the garden
with her.
