The Heir of Redclyffe. Yonge Charlotte Mary

at all, not at all!’ was the answer; ‘mamma never objects to in-door pets, eh, Amy?’

      ‘A tender subject, papa,’ said Laura; ‘poor Pepper!’

      Amy, ashamed of her disposition to cry at the remembrance of the dear departed rough terrier, bent down to hide her glowing face, and held out her hand to the dog, which at last ventured to advance, still creeping with his body curved till his tail was foremost, looking imploringly at his master, as if to entreat his pardon.

      ‘Are you sure you don’t dislike it?’ inquired Sir Guy, of Charles.

      ‘I? O no. Here, you fine creature.’

      ‘Come, then, behave like a rational dog, since you are come,’ said Sir Guy; and Bustle, resuming the deportment of a spirited and well-bred spaniel, no longer crouched and curled himself into the shape of a comma, but bounded, wagged his tail, thrust his nose into his master’s hand and then proceeded to reconnoitre the rest of the company, paying especial attention to Charles, putting his fore-paws on the sofa, and rearing himself up to contemplate him with a grave, polite curiosity, that was very diverting.

      ‘Well, old fellow,’ said Charles, ‘did you ever see the like of such a dressing-gown? Are you satisfied? Give me your paw, and let us swear an eternal friendship.’

      ‘I am quite glad to see a dog in the house again,’ said Laura, and, after a few more compliments, Bustle and his master followed Mr. Edmonstone out of the room.

      ‘One of my father’s well-judged proceedings,’ murmured Charles. ‘That poor fellow had rather have gone a dozen, miles further than have been lugged in here. Really, if papa chooses to inflict such dressing-gowns on me, he should give me notice before he brings men and dogs to make me their laughing-stock!’

      ‘An unlucky moment,’ said Laura. ‘Will my cheeks ever cool?’

      ‘Perhaps he did not hear,’ said Amabel, consolingly.

      ‘You did not ask about Philip?’ said Charlotte, with great earnestness.

      ‘He is staying at Thorndale, and then going to St. Mildred’s,’ said Laura.

      ‘I hope you are relieved,’ said her brother; and she looked in doubt whether she ought to laugh.

      ‘And what do you think of Sir Guy?’

      ‘May he only be worthy of his dog!’ replied Charles.

      ‘Ah!’ said Laura, ‘many men are neither worthy of their wives, nor of their dogs.’

      ‘Dr. Henley, I suppose, is the foundation of that aphorism,’ said Charles.

      ‘If Margaret Morville could marry him, she could hardly be too worthy,’ said Laura. ‘Think of throwing away Philip’s whole soul!’

      ‘O Laura, she could not lose that,’ said Amabel.

      Laura looked as if she knew more; but at that moment, both her father and mother entered, the former rubbing his hands, as he always did when much pleased, and sending his voice before him, as he exclaimed, ‘Well, Charlie, well, young ladies, is not he a fine fellow—eh?’

      ‘Rather under-sized,’ said Charles.

      ‘Eh? He’ll grow. He is not eighteen, you know; plenty of time; a very good height; you can’t expect every one to be as tall as Philip; but he’s a capital fellow. And how have you been?—any pain?’

      ‘Hem—rather,’ said Charles, shortly, for he hated answering kind inquiries, when out of humour.

      ‘Ah, that’s a pity; I was sorry not to find you in the drawing-room, but I thought you would have liked just to see him,’ said Mr. Edmonstone, disappointed, and apologizing.

      ‘I had rather have had some notice of your intention,’ said Charles, ‘I would have made myself fit to be seen.’

      ‘I am sorry. I thought you would have liked his coming,’ said poor Mr. Edmonstone, only half conscious of his offence; ‘but I see you are not well this evening.’

      Worse and worse, for it was equivalent to openly telling Charles he was out of humour; and seeing, as he did, his mother’s motive, he was still further annoyed when she hastily interposed a question about Sir Guy.

      ‘You should only hear them talk about him at Redclyffe,’ said Mr Edmonstone. ‘No one was ever equal to him, according to them. Every one said the same—clergyman, old Markham, all of them. Such attention to his grandfather, such proper feeling, so good-natured, not a bit of pride—it is my firm belief that he will make up for all his family before him.’

      Charles set up his eyebrows sarcastically.

      ‘How does he get on with Philip?’ inquired Laura.

      ‘Excellently. Just what could be wished. Philip is delighted with him; and I have been telling Guy all the way home what a capital friend he will be, and he is quite inclined to look up to him.’ Charles made an exaggerated gesture of astonishment, unseen by his father. ‘I told him to bring his dog. He would have left it, but they seemed so fond of each other, I thought it was a pity to part them, and that I could promise it should be welcome here; eh, mamma?’

      ‘Certainly. I am very glad you brought it.’

      ‘We are to have his horse and man in a little while. A beautiful chestnut—anything to raise his spirits. He is terribly cut up about his grandfather.

      It was now time to go down to dinner; and after Charles had made faces of weariness and disgust at all the viands proposed to him by his mother, almost imploring him to like them, and had at last ungraciously given her leave to send what he could not quite say he disliked, he was left to carry on his teasing of Charlotte, and his grumbling over the dinner, for about the space of an hour, when Amabel came back to him, and Charlotte went down.

      ‘Hum!’ he exclaimed. ‘Another swan of my father’s.’

      ‘Did not you like his looks?’

      ‘I saw only an angular hobbetyhoy.’

      ‘But every one at Redclyffe speaks so well of him.’

      ‘As if the same things were not said of every heir to more acres than brains! However, I could have swallowed everything but the disposition to adore Philip. Either it was gammon on his part, or else the work of my father’s imagination.’

      ‘For shame, Charlie.’

      ‘Is it within the bounds of probability that he should be willing, at the bidding of his guardian, to adopt as Mentor his very correct and sententious cousin, a poor subaltern, and the next in the entail? Depend upon it, it is a fiction created either by papa’s hopes or Philip’s self-complacency, or else the unfortunate youth must have been brought very low by strait-lacing and milk-and-water.’

      ‘Mr. Thorndale is willing to look up to Philip,’

      ‘I don’t think the Thorndale swan very—very much better than a tame goose,’ said Charles, ‘but the coalition is not so monstrous in his case, since Philip was a friend of his own picking and choosing, and so his father’s adoption did not succeed in repelling him. But that Morville should receive this “young man’s companion,” on the word of a guardian whom he never set eyes on before, is too incredible—utterly mythical I assure you, Amy. And how did you get on at dinner?’

      ‘Oh, the dog is the most delightful creature I ever saw, so sensible and well-mannered.’

      ‘It was of the man that I asked.’

      ‘He said hardly anything, and sometimes started if papa spoke to him suddenly. He winced as if he could not bear to be called Sir Guy, so papa said we should call him only by his name, if he would do the same by us. I am glad of it, for it seems more friendly, and I am sure he wants to be comforted.’

      ‘Don’t waste your compassion, my dear; few men need it less. With his property, those moors to shoot over, his own master, and with health to enjoy it, there are plenty who would change with him for all your pity, my silly little Amy.’

      ‘Surely not, with that horrible