'And welcome, my dear fellow: there are so many to be done for, that it is well one can do for himself.'
'But Felix-Felix out of them all!'
'As the voice I want to silence has said a thousand times! No; Felix seems capable of this, and it is not right to withhold him, and throw his education upon the kind friends who might be helping the other boys-boys whom I could not trust to fend for themselves and others, as I can that dear lad.'
'What he might be-'
'Who knows whether he may not be a greater blessing in this work than in that which we should have chosen for him? He may be a leaven for good-among the men we have never been able to reach! My dear Audley, don't be a greater ass about it than I was at first!'
For the young curate really could not speak at first for a rush of emotion.
'It is not only for Felix's sake,' said he, smiling at last, 'but the way you take it.'
'And now, I am going to ask you to do something for me,' added Mr. Underwood. 'I have left this magnificent estate of mine entirely to my wife, appointing her sole guardian to my children. But I have begun to think how much has been taken out of her by that shock of leaving Vale Leston, and by that wonderful resolute patience that- that I shall never be able to thank her for. I scarcely dare to let her know that I see it. And when I look on to the winter that is before her,' he added, much less calmly, 'I think she may not be long after me. I must add a guardian. Once we had many good friends. We have them still, I hope, but I cannot lay this on them. Our cousin Tom Underwood does not seem disposed to notice us, and his care might not be of the right kind. Our only other relation is Fulbert Underwood.'
'Who drove you from Vale Leston?'
'Who did what he had every right to do with his own,' said Mr. Underwood. 'But he is not the style of man to be asked, even if I could saddle him with the charge. Probably twelve children to bring up on seven thousand pounds-a problem never put before us at Cambridge.'
'Do you honour me by-' asked the younger man, much agitated.
'Not by asking you to solve that problem! But let me add your name. What I want is a guardian, who will not violently break up the home and disperse the children. I believe Felix will be a competent young head if he is allowed, and I want you to be an elder brother to him, and let him act.'
'You cannot give me greater comfort.'
'Only, Audley, this must be on one condition. Never let this guardianship interfere with any higher work that you may be called to. If I thought it would bind you down to Bexley, or even to England, I should refrain from this request as a temptation. Mind, you are only asked to act in case the children should lose their mother, and then only to enable Felix to be what I believe he can and will be. Or, as it may be right to add, if he should fail them, you will know what to do.'
'I do not think he will.'
'Nor I. But there are ways of failing besides the worst. However, I do not greatly fear this illness of mine taking root in them. It has not been in the family before; and I am nearly sure that I know when I took the infection, four or five years ago, from a poor man in Smoke-jack Alley, who would let no one lift him but me. They are healthy young things, all but dear little Cherry, and I hope they have spirits to keep care from making them otherwise. You will say a kind word to my little Cherry sometimes, Audley. Poor little woman, I am afraid it may fall sorely on her, she is of rather too highly strung a composition, and perhaps I have not acted so much for her good as my own pleasure, in the companionship we have had together.'
So the will was altered, though without the knowledge of anyone but Mrs. Underwood and the witnesses; and Mr. Audley felt himself bound to remonstrate no further against Felix's fate, however much he might deplore it.
Nobody was so unhappy about it as Edgar. The boy was incredulous at first, then hotly indignant. Then he got a burnt stick, and after shutting himself up in his attic for an hour, was found lying on the floor, before an awful outline on the whitewash.
'What is it, old fellow?' asked Felix. 'What a horrid mess!'
'I see, said Lance. 'It is Friday grinning at the savages.'
'Or a scarecrow on the back of a ditch,' said Felix. 'Come, Ed, tell us what it is meant for.'
Edgar was impenetrable; but having watched the others out of the house, he dragged Geraldine up to see- something-
'Oh!' she cried. 'You've done it!'
'To be sure! You know it?'
'It is Achilles on the rampart, shouting at the Trojans! O Edgar-how brave he looks-how his hair flies! Some day you will get him in his god-like beauty!'
'Do you think he has not got any of it, Cherry?' said Edgar, gazing wistfully. 'I did see it all, but it didn't come out-and now-'
'I see what you mean,' said Cherry, screwing up her eyes; 'it is in him to be glorious-a kind of lightning look.'
'Yes, yes; that's what I meant. All majesty and wrath, but no strain. O Cherry-to have such things in my head, and not get them out! Don't you know what it is?' as he rolled and flung himself about.
'Oh, yes!' said Cherry from her heart. 'Oh! I should so like to do one touch to his face, but he's so big! You did him on a chair, and I could not stand on one.'
'I'll lift you up. I'll hold you,' cried Edgar.
The passion for drawing must have been very strong in the two children; for Geraldine was most perilously, and not without pain, raised to a chair, where, with Edgar's arms round her waist, she actually worked for ten minutes at Achilles' face, but his arm she declined. 'It is not right, Eddy! look-that muscle in his elbow can never be so!'
'I can't see the back of mine, but you can,' said Edgar, lifting her down, and proceeding to take off his coat and roll up his shirt- sleeve.
'That's the way. Oh! but it is not such an angle as that.'
'Achilles' muscles must have stood out more than mine, you know. I'll get a look at Blunderbore's. O Cherry, if I were but older-I know I could-I'd save Felix from this horrible thing! I feel to want to roar at old Froggy, like this fellow at the Trojans.'
'Perhaps some day you will save him.'
'Yes; but then he will have done it. Just fancy, Gerald, if that picture was as it ought to be-as you and I see it!'
'It would be as grand as the world ever saw,' said the little girl, gazing through her eye-lashes at the dim strokes in the twilight. O Edgar, many a great man has begun in a garret!'
'If it would not be so long hence! Oh! must you go down!'
'I heard some one calling. You will be a great artist, I know, Edgar!'
It was pleasanter than the other criticism, at bed-time.
'Hollo! Man Friday does not look quite so frightful!' said Felix.
'I'm sure I won't have him over my bed,' said Fulbert, proceeding to rub him out; and though, for the moment, Achilles was saved by violent measures of Edgar's, yet before the end of the next day, Fulbert and Lance had made him black from head to foot, all but the whites of his eyes and his teeth; Robina and Angela had peeped in, and emulated the terror of the Trojans, or the savages; and Sibby had fallen on the young gentleman for being 'so bold' as to draw a frightful phooka upon their walls just to frighten the darlints. Indeed, it was long before Angela could be got past the door at night without shuddering, although Achilles had been obliterated by every possible method that Felix, Clement, or Sibby could devise, and some silent tears of Cherry had bewailed the conclusion of this effort of high art, the outline of which, in more moderate proportions, was cherished in that portfolio of hers.
Another work of art-the photograph-was safely accomplished. The photographer caught at the idea, declaring that he had been so often asked for Mr. Underwood's carte, that he had often thought of begging to take it gratis. And he not only insisted on so doing, but he came down from his studio, and took Mr. Underwood in his own chair, under his own window-producing a likeness which, at first sight, shocked every one by its faithful record of the ravages of disease, unlightened by the fair colouring and lustrous beaming eyes, but which, by-and-by, grew upon the gazer, as full of a certain majesty of unearthly beauty of countenance.
The autumn was mild, and Mr. Underwood rallied in some measure, so as sometimes even to get to church at mid-day services on warm days.
