Part 6 (1/2)

'I want to ask something--a great favour--but you make me venture. You see how I am left alone--you know how little I can trust myself. Will you take me in hand--let me talk to you--and tell me if I am wrong, as freely as if I were Charles? I know it is asking a great deal, but you knew my grandfather, and it is in his name.'

She held out her hand; and with tears answered--

'Indeed I will, if I see any occasion.'

'You will let me trust to you to tell me when I get too vehement? above all, when you see my temper failing? Thank you; you don't know what a relief it is!'

'But you must not call yourself alone. You are one of us now.'

'Yes; since you have made that promise,' said Guy; and for the first time she saw the full beauty of his smile--a sort of sweetness and radiance of which eye and brow partook almost as much as the lips. It alone would have gained her heart.

'I must look on you as a kind of nephew,' she added, kindly. 'I used to hear so much of you from my brother.'

'Oh!' cried Guy, lighting up, 'Archdeacon Morville was always so kind to me. I remember him very well!'

'Ah! I wish--' there she paused, and added,--tete-a-tete 'it is not right to wish such things--and Philip is very like his father.'

'I am very glad his regiment is so near. I want to know him better.'

'You knew him at Redclyffe, when he was staying there?'

'Yes,' said Guy, his colour rising; 'but I was a boy then, and a very foolish, headstrong one. I am glad to meet him again. What a grand-looking person he is!'

'We are very proud of him,' said Mrs. Edmonstone, smiling. 'I don't think there has been an hour's anxiety about him since he was born.'

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of Charles's crutches slowly crossing the hall. Guy sprang to help him to his sofa, and then, without speaking, hurried up-stairs.

'Mamma, tete-a-tete with the silent one!' exclaimed Charles.

'I will not tell you all I think of him,' said she, leaving the room.

'Hum!' soliloquised Charles. 'That means that my lady mother has adopted him, and thinks I should laugh at her, or straightway set up a dislike to him, knowing my contempt for heroes and hero-wors.h.i.+p. It's a treat to have Philip out of the way, and if it was but possible to get out of hearing of his perfection, I should have some peace. If I thought this fellow had one spice of the kind, I'd never trouble my head about him more; and yet I don't believe he has such a pair of hawk's eyes for nothing!'

The hawk's eyes, as Charles called them, shone brighter from that day forth, and their owner began to show more interest in what pa.s.sed around. Laura was much amused by a little conversation she held with him one day when a party of their younger neighbours were laughing and talking nonsense round Charles's sofa. He was sitting a little way off in silence, and she took advantage of the loud laughing to say:

'You think this is not very satisfactory?' And as he gave a quick glance of inquiry--'Don't mind saying so. Philip and I often agree that it is a pity spend so much time in laughing at nothing--at such nonsense.'

'It is nonsense?'

'Listen--no don't, it is too silly.'

'Nonsense must be an excellent thing if it makes people so happy,' said Guy thoughtfully. 'Look at them; they are like--not a picture--that has no life--but a dream--or, perhaps a scene in a play.'

'Did you never see anything like it?'

'Oh, no! All the morning calls I ever saw were formal, every one stiff, and speaking by rote, or talking politics. How glad I used to be to get on horseback again! But to see these--why, it is like the shepherd's glimpse at the pixies!--as one reads a new book, or watches what one only half understands--a rook's parliament, or a gathering of sea-fowl on the s.h.a.g Rock.'

'A rook's parliament?'

'The people at home call it a rook's parliament when a whole cloud of rooks settle on some bare, wide common, and sit there as if they were consulting, not feeding, only stalking about, with drooping wings, and solemn, black cloaks.'