"I was not comfortable in my mind at this, for I knew my father
pretty well, and had looked for something different; but the other
lads were in high feather, and lighted their cigars on the
instant, bidding me do likewise, and crying out that my father was
a fine old buck, and that I was a lucky fellow to have such a
parent. I could not be behind the rest, so I lit up, too, and for
a few minutes all was as gay as a feast. But, Harry Monmouth, sir!
in half an hour we were the sickest boys in Westchester County. It
was all we could do to crawl home to our beds; and not one of us
but was sure he was dying, and cried to his mother to send for the
doctor before it was too late."

The Colonel laughed heartily, the boys chiming in with a merry
peal.

"What were the cigars?" asked Phil.

"The strongest Havanas that were made,--that was all. Fine cigars,
I have no doubt; but I was forty years old before I touched
tobacco again, and I have never smoked anything less delicate than
a Manilla."

He puffed in silence, chuckling to himself now and then; the boys
meditated on the tale they had heard.

"Colonel Ferrers," said Gerald, at last.

"Yes, my boy. You are thinking that it is time to join the ladies?
Quite right; we will go in at once."