Betto looked after him with uplifted hands and eyes.
"Well, indeed! there never was such a boy! always in some mischief; but
that's how boys are!"
Cardo went out whistling, up the long meadow to the barren corner,
where the furze bushes and wild thyme and harebells still held their
own against the plough and harrow; and here, sitting in deep thought,
and still whistling in a low tone, he held a long consultation with
himself.
"No! I will never try again!" he said at last, as he rose and took his
way to another part of the farm.
In the afternoon he entered his father's study, looking, in his manly
strength, and with his bright, keen eyes, out of keeping with this
dusty, faded room. His very clothes were redolent of the breezy
mountain-side.
Meurig Wynne still pored over apparently the self-same books which he
was studying when we first saw him.
"Sit down, Cardo," he said, as his son entered; "I have a good deal to
say to you. First, this letter," and he hunted about amongst his
papers. "It is from an old friend of mine, Rowland Ellis of Plas
Gwynant. You know I hear from him occasionally--quite often enough.
It is waste of stamps, waste of energy, and waste of time to write when
you have nothing special to say. But he has something to say to-day.
He has a son, a poor, weak fellow I have heard, as far as outward
appearance and bodily health go--a contrast to you, Cardo--but a clever
fellow, a senior wrangler, and an M.A. of his college. He has just
been ordained, and wants to recruit his health before he settles down
to a living which is in the gift of his uncle, and which will be vacant
in a short time; and as he offers very good remuneration, I don't see
why he shouldn't come here. He would be a companion to you. What do
you say to it?"
"As far as I am concerned, let him come by all means, if you wish it,
father; it can make no difference to me."
"Indeed it will, though! You will have to show him about the
neighbourhood, and lay yourself out to make his stay here as pleasant
as possible, for he will pay well."
"Pay!" said Cardo, with a frown, his sense of hospitality chafing under
the idea. "Pay! that spoils it all. If you take my advice in the
matter, you will write to your friend, and tell him to send his son
here by all means, but decline to take any remuneration."
"Cardo, you are a fool! Do you think I would take a stranger into my
house, to have him always at my table, upsetting all my domestic
arrangements, for nothing? You ought to know me better. Fortunately
for you, with your pride and extravagant ideas, I am here to look after
affairs, and hitherto, thank God, I have been quite capable of doing
so! I only consulted you on the matter because I wanted to know what
chance there was of your making yourself agreeable to the young man, as
I cannot be bothered with him."