"I don"t want _to_."
"Nor _one_ either, sir," said Mr. Kendal. "What shall we have to tell Uncle William about you! I"m afraid you are one of the chief causes of mamma not knowing how to go to London."
Maurice did not appear on the way to penitence, but his mother said, "Bring me your knife."
He hung down his head, and obeyed without a word. She closed it, and laid it on the mantel-shelf, which served as a sort of pound for properties in sequestration.
"Now, then, go," she said, "you are too naughty for me to attend to you."
"But when will you, mamma?" laying a hand on her dress.
"I don"t know. Go away now."
He slowly obeyed, and as the door shut, she said, "There!" in a tone as if her view was established.
"You must send him to Fairmead," said the uncle.
"To "terrify" Winifred? No, no, I know better than that; Gilbert can look after him. I don"t so much care about that."
The admission was eagerly hailed, and objection after objection removed, and having recovered her good humour, she was candid, and owned how much she wished to go. "I really want to make acquaintance with William. I"ve never seen him since I came to my senses, and have only taken him on trust from you."
"I wish equally that he should see you," said her brother. "It would be good for him, and I doubt whether he has any conception what you are like."
"I"d better stay at home, to leave you and Edmund to depict for his benefit a model impossible idol--the normal woman."
Maurice looked at her, and shook his head.
"No--it would be rather--it and its young one, eh?"
Maurice took both her hands. "I should not like to tell William what I shall believe if you do not come."
"Well, what--"
"That Edmund is right, and you have been overtasked till you are careful and troubled about many things."
"Only too much bent on generous self-devotion," said Mr. Kendal, eagerly; "too unselfish to cast the balance of duties."
"Hush, Edmund," said Albinia. "I don"t deserve fine words. I honestly believe I want to do what is right, but I can"t be sure what it is, and I have made quite fuss enough, so you two shall decide, and then I shall be made right anyway. Only do it from your consciences."
They looked at each other, taken aback by the sudden surrender. Mr.
Ferrars waited, and her husband said, "She ought to see her brother. She needs the change, and there is no sufficient cause to detain her."
"She must be content sometimes to trust," said Mr. Ferrars.
"Aye, and all that will go wrong, when my back is turned."
"Let it," said her brother. "The right which depends on a single human eye is not good for much. Let the weeds grow, or you can"t pull them up."
"Let the mice play, that the cat may catch them," said Albinia, striving to hide her care. "One good effect is, that Edmund has not begun to groan."
Indeed, in his anxiety that she should consent to enjoy herself, he had not had time to shrink from the introduction.
Outside the door they found Maurice waiting, his spelling learnt from a fragment of the indestructible spelling-book, and the question followed, "Now, mamma, you wont say I"m too naughty for you to go to London and see Uncle William?"
"No, my little boy, I mean to trust you, and tell Uncle William that my young soldier is learning the soldier"s first duty--obedience."
"And may I have my knife, mamma?"
Papa had settled that question by himself taking it off the chimney-piece and restoring it. If mamma wished the penance to have been longer, she neither looked it nor said it.
The young people received the decision with acclamation, and the two elder ones vied with one another in attempts to set her mind at rest by undertaking everything, and promising for themselves and the children perfect regularity and harmony. Sophy, with a bluntness that King Lear would have highly disapproved, said, "She was glad mamma was going, but she knew they should be all at sixes and sevens. She would do her best, and very bad it would be."
"Not if you don"t make up your mind beforehand that it must be bad,"
said her uncle.
Sophy smiled, she was much less impervious to cheerful auguries, and spoke with gladness of the pleasure it would give her friend Genevieve to see Mrs. Kendal.
Mr. Ferrars had a short interview with Ulick, and was amused by observing that little Maurice had learnt as much Irish as Ulick had dropped. After the pa.s.sing fever about his O had subsided, he was parting with some of his ultra-nationality. The whirr of his R"s and his Irish idioms were far less perceptible, and though a word of attack on his country would put him on his mettle, and bring out the Kelt in full force, yet in his reasonable state, his good sense and love of order showed an evident development, and instead of contending that Galway was the most perfect county in the world, he only said it might yet be so.
"Isn"t he a n.o.ble fellow?" cried Albinia, warmly.
"Yes," said her brother; "I doubt whether all the O"Mores put together have ever made such a conquest as he has."
"It was fun to see how the aunts were dismayed to find one of the horde in full force here. I believe it was as a measure of precaution that they took Lucy away. I was very glad for Lucy to go, but hers was not exactly the danger."
"Ha!" said Maurice; and Albinia blushed. Whereupon he said interrogatively, "Hem?" which made her laugh so consciously that he added, "Don"t you go and be romantic about either of your young ladies, or there will be a general burning of fingers."
"If you knew all our secrets, Maurice, you would think me a model of prudence and forbearance."
"Ho!" was his next interjection, "so much the worse. For my own part, I don"t expect prudence will come to you naturally till the little Awk has a lover."
"Won"t it come any other way?"
"Yes, in _one_ way," he said, gravely.
"And that way is not easily found by those who have neither humility nor patience," she said, sadly, "who rush on their own will."
"Nay, Albinia, it is being sought, I do believe; and remember the lines--
"Thine own mild energy bestow, And deepen while thou bidst it flow, More calm our stream of love.""
Forced to resign herself to her holiday, Albinia did so with a good grace, in imitation of her brother, who a.s.sured her that he had brought a bottle of Lethe, and had therein drowned wife, children, and parish.
Mr. Kendal"s spirits, as usual, rose higher every mile from Bayford, and they were a very lively party when they arrived in Mayfair.
The good aunts were delighted to have round them all those whom they called their children; all except Fred, whom the new arrangements had sent to rejoin his regiment in Ireland.