Robinson went away offended at his grievance being called nonsense.
He kept muttering to himself in the intervals of scolding Thomas, and
saying,--"Things is a deal changed since poor missis went. I don't
wonder master feels it, for I'm sure I do. She was a lady who had
always a becoming respect for a butler's position, and could have
understood how he might be hurt in his mind. She'd never ha' called
his delicacies of feelings nonsense--not she; no more would Mr.
Roger. He's a merry young gentleman, and over fond of bringing dirty,
slimy creatures into the house; but he's always a kind word for a man
who is hurt in his mind. He'd cheer up the Squire, and keep him from
getting so cross and wilful. I wish Mr. Roger was here, I do."
The poor Squire, shut up with his grief, and his ill-temper as well,
in the dingy, dreary study where he daily spent more and more of
his indoors life, turned over his cares and troubles till he was as
bewildered with the process as a squirrel must be in going round in
a cage. He had out day-books and ledgers, and was calculating up
back-rents; and every time the sum-totals came to different amounts.
He could have cried like a child over his sums; he was worn out and
weary, angry and disappointed. He closed his books at last with a
bang.
"I'm getting old," he said, "and my head's less clear than it used to
be. I think sorrow for her has dazed me. I never was much to boast
on; but she thought a deal of me--bless her! She'd never let me call
myself stupid; but, for all that, I am stupid. Osborne ought to help
me. He's had money enough spent on his learning; but, instead, he
comes down dressed like a popinjay, and never troubles his head to
think how I'm to pay his debts. I wish I'd told him to earn his
living as a dancing-master," said the squire, with a sad smile at his
own wit. "He's dressed for all the world like one. And how he's spent
the money no one knows! Perhaps Roger will turn up some day with a
heap of creditors at his heels. No, he won't--not Roger; he may be
slow, but he's steady, is old Roger. I wish he was here. He's not the
eldest son, but he'd take an interest in the estate; and he'd do up
these weary accounts for me. I wish Roger was here!"