'Buried in oblivion would sound more magnanimous,' said Charles; at which Amabel laughed so uncontrollably, that she was forced to hide her head on her little sister's shoulder. Charlotte laughed too, an imprudent proceeding, as it attracted attention. Her father smiled, saying, half-reprovingly--'So you are there, inquisitive pussy-cat?' And at her mother's question,--'Charlotte, what business have you here?' She stole back to her lessons, looking very small, without the satisfaction of hearing her mother's compassionate words--'Poor child!'
'How old is he?' asked Mr. Edmonstone, returning to the former subject.
'He is of the same age as Laura--seventeen and a half,' answered Mrs. Edmonstone. 'Don't you remember my brother saying what a satisfaction it was to see such a noble baby as she was, after such a poor little miserable thing as the one at Redclyffe?'
'He is grown into a fine spirited fellow,' said Philip.
'I suppose we must have him here,' said Mr. Edmonstone. Should you not say so--eh, Philip?'
'Certainly; I should think it very good for him. Indeed, his grandfather's death has happened at a most favourable time for him. The poor old man had such a dread of his going wrong that he kept him--'
'I know--as tight as a drum.'
'With strictness that I should think very bad for a boy of his impatient temper. It would have been a very dangerous experiment to send him at once among the temptations of Oxford, after such discipline and solitude as he has been used to.'
'Don't talk of it,' interrupted Mr. Edmonstone, spreading out his hands in a deprecating manner. 'We must do the best we can with him, for I have got him on my hands till he is five-and-twenty--his grandfather has tied him up till then. If we can keep him out of mischief, well and good; if not, it can't be helped.'
'You have him all to yourself,' said Charles.
'Ay, to my sorrow. If your poor father was alive, Philip, I should be free of all care. I've a pretty deal on my hands,' he proceeded, looking more important than troubled. 'All that great Redclyffe estate is no sinecure, to say nothing of the youth himself. If all the world will come to me, I can't help it. I must go and speak to the men, if I am to be off to Redclyffe tomorrow. Will you come, Philip?'
'I must go back soon, thank you,' replied Philip. 'I must see about my leave; only we should first settle when to set off.'