The Heir of Redclyffe. CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

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      ‘And where is my aunt?’

      Driving out with Charles and Charlotte. What is the matter?’

      ‘Look here. Can you tell me the meaning of this which I found on my table when I came in this morning?’

      It was a card of Sir Guy Morville, on the back of which was written in pencil, ‘Dear P., I find hunting and reading don’t agree, so take no further steps about the horse. Many thanks for your trouble.—G.M.’

      ‘There,’ said Philip, ‘is the result of brooding all night on his resentment.’ ‘Oh no!’ cried Laura, colouring with eagerness, ‘you do not understand him. He could not bear it last night, because, as he has been explaining to us, that old Sir Hugh’s story was more shocking than we ever guessed, and he has a fancy that their misfortunes are a family fate, and he could not bear to hear it spoken of lightly.’

      ‘Oh! He has been telling you his own story, has he?’

      Laura’s colour grew still deeper, ‘If you had been there,’ she said, ‘you would have been convinced. Why will you not believe that he finds hunting interfere with reading?’

      ‘He should have thought of that before,’ said Philip.

      ‘Here have I half bought the horse! I have wasted the whole morning on it, and now I have to leave it on the man’s hands. I had a dozen times rather take it myself, if I could afford it. Such a bargain as I had made, and such an animal as you will not see twice in your life.’

      ‘It is a great pity,’ said Laura. ‘He should have known his own mind. I don’t like people to give trouble for nothing.’

      ‘Crazy about it last night, and giving it up this morning! A most extraordinary proceeding. No, no, Laura, this is not simple fickleness, it would be too absurd. It is temper, temper, which makes a man punish himself, in hopes of punishing others.

      Laura still spoke for Guy, and Amy rejoiced; for if her sister had not taken up the defence of the absent, she must, and she felt too strongly to be willing to speak. It seemed too absurd for one feeling himself under such a doom to wrangle about a horse, yet she was somewhat amused by the conviction that if Guy had really wished to annoy Philip he had certainly succeeded.

      There was no coming to an agreement. Laura’s sense of justice revolted at the notion of Guy’s being guilty of petty spite; while Philip, firm in his preconceived idea of his character, and his own knowledge of mankind, was persuaded that he had imputed the true motive, and was displeased at Laura’s attempting to argue the point. He could not wait to see any one else, as he was engaged to dine out, and he set off again at his quick, resolute pace.

      ‘He is very unfair!’ exclaimed Amy.

      ‘He did not mean to be so,’ said Laura; ‘and though he is mistaken in imputing such motives, Guy’s conduct has certainly been vexatious.’

      They were just turning to go in, when they were interrupted by the return of the carriage; and before Charles had been helped up the steps, their father and Guy came in sight. While Guy went to shut up Bustle, who was too wet for the drawing-room, Mr. Edmonstone came up to the others, kicking away the pebbles before him, and fidgeting with his gloves, as he always did when vexed.

      ‘Here’s a pretty go!’ said he. ‘Here is Guy telling me he won’t hunt any more!’

      ‘Not hunt!’ cried Mrs. Edmonstone and Charles at once; ‘and why?’

      ‘Oh! something about its taking his mind from his reading; but that can’t be it—impossible, you know; I’d give ten pounds to know what has vexed him. So keen as he was about it last night, and I vow, one of the best riders in the whole field. Giving up that horse, too—I declare it is a perfect sin! I told him he had gone too far, and he said he had left a note with Philip this morning.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Laura; Philip has just been here about it. Guy left a card, saying, hunting and reading would not agree.’

      ‘That is an excuse, depend upon it,’ said Mr. Edmonstone. ‘Something has nettled him, I am sure. It could not be that Gordon, could it, with his hail-fellow-well-met manner? I thought Guy did not half like it the other day, when he rode up with his “Hollo, Morville!” The Morvilles have a touch of pride of their own; eh, mamma?’

      ‘I should be inclined to believe his own account of himself,’ said she.

      ‘I tell you, ’tis utterly against reason,’ said Mr. Edmonstone, angrily. ‘If he was a fellow like Philip, or James Ross, I could believe it; but he—he make a book-worm! He hates it, like poison, at the bottom of his heart, I’ll answer for it; and the worst of it is, the fellow putting forward such a fair reason one can’t—being his guardian, and all—say what one thinks of it oneself. Eh, mamma?’

      ‘Not exactly,’ said Mrs. Edmonstone, smiling.

      ‘Well, you take him in hand, mamma. I dare say he will tell you the rights of it, and if it is only that Gordon, explain it rightly to him, show him ’tis only the man’s way; tell him he treats me so for ever, and would the Lord-Lieutenant if he was in it.’

      ‘For a’ that and a’ that,’ said Charles, as Amy led him into the drawing-room.

      ‘You are sure the reading is the only reason?’ said Amy.’

      ‘He’s quite absurd enough for it,’ said Charles; but ‘absurd’ was pronounced in a way that made its meaning far from annoying even to Guy’s little champion.

      Guy came in the next moment, and running lightly up-stairs after Mrs. Edmonstone, found her opening the dressing-room door, and asked if he might come in.

      ‘By all means,’ she said; ‘I am quite ready for one of our twilight talks.’

      ‘I am afraid I have vexed Mr. Edmonstone,’ began Guy; ‘and I am very sorry.’

      ‘He was only afraid that something might have occurred to vex you, which you might not like to mention to him,’ said Mrs. Edmonstone, hesitating a little.

      ‘Me! What could I have done to make him think so? I am angry with no one but myself. The fact is only this, the hunting is too pleasant; it fills up my head all day and all night; and I don’t attend rightly to anything else. If I am out in the morning and try to pay for it at night, it will not do; I can but just keep awake and that’s all; the Greek letters all seem to be hunting each other, the simplest things grow difficult, and at last all I can think of, is how near the minute hand of my watch is near to the hour I have set myself. So, for the last fortnight, every construing with Mr. Lascelles has been worse than the last; and as to my Latin verses, they were beyond everything shocking, so you see there is no making the two things agree, and the hunting must wait till I grow steadier, if I ever do. Heigho! It is a great bore to be so stupid, for I thought—But it is of no use to talk of it!’

      ‘Mr. Edmonstone would be a very unreasonable guardian, indeed, to be displeased,’ said his friend, smiling. You say you stopped the purchase of the horse. Why so? Could you not keep him till you are more sure of yourself?’

      ‘Do you think I might?’ joyously exclaimed Guy. ‘I’ll write to Philip this minute by the post. Such a splendid creature: it would do you good to see it—such action—such СКАЧАТЬ