'You will not commit yourself?' said Colonel Brownlow. 'Remember that your children's interests are at stake, and must not be sacrificed to a predilection.'
Again Caroline felt fiery and furious, and less inclined than ever to submit her judgment as she said, 'You can inquire, but I know what Joe thought of him.'
'His worthiness is not the point, but whether he can indemnify you.'
'His worthiness not the point!' cried Caroline, indignantly. 'I think it all the point.'
'You misunderstand me; you totally misunderstand me,' exclaimed the Colonel trying hard to be gentle. 'I never meant to recommend an unworthy man.'
'You wanted Vaughan,' murmured Mother Carey, but he did not regard the words, perhaps did not hear them, for he went on: 'My brother in such a case would have taken a reasonable view, and placed the good of his children before any amiable desire to benefit a-a-one unconnected with him. However,' he added, 'there is no reason against writing to him, provided you do not commit yourself.'
Caroline hated the word, but endured it, and the rest of the interview was spent upon some needful signatures, and on the question of her residence at Kenminster, an outlook which she contemplated as part of the darkness into which her life seemed to have suddenly dashed forward. One place would be much the same as another to her, and she could only hear with indifference about the three houses, possible, and the rent, garden, and number of rooms.
She was very glad when it was over, and the Colonel, saying he should go and consult Dr. Lucas, gave her back the keys he had taken from Janet, and said that perhaps she would prefer looking over the papers before he himself did so, with a view to accounts; but he should advise all professional records to be destroyed.
It may be feared that the two executors did not respect or like each, other much the better for the interview, which had made the widow feel herself even more desolate and sore-hearted.
She ran, downstairs, locked the door of the consulting room, opened the lid of the bureau, and kneeling down with her head among all the papers, she sobbed with long-drawn, tearless sobs, 'O father! O Joe! how could you bid me live there? He makes me worse! They will make me worse and worse, and now you are gone, and Granny is gone, there's nobody to make me good; and what will become of the children?'
Then she looked drearily on the papers that lay before her, as if his hand-writing at least gave a sort of nearness. There was a memorandum book which had been her birthday present to him, and she felt drawn to open it. The first she saw after her own writing of his name was-
''Magnum Bonum. So my sweet wife insists on calling this possibility, of which I will keep the notes in her book.
''Magnum Bonum! Whether it so prove, and whether I may be the means of making it known, must be as God may will. May He give me the power of persevering, to win, or to fail, or to lay the foundation for other men, whichever may be the best, with a true heart, heeding His glory, and acting as His servant to reveal His mysteries of science for the good of His children.
''And above all, may He give us all to know and feel the true and only Magnum Bonum, the great good, which alone makes success or failure, loss or gain, life or death, alike blessed in Him and through Him.''
Carey gazed on those words, as she sat in the large arm-chair, whither she had moved on opening the book. She had always known that religion was infinitely more to her husband than ever it had been to herself. She had done what he led her to do, and had a good deal of intellectual and poetical perception and an uprightness, affection, and loyalty of nature that made her anxious to do right, but devotion was duty, and not pleasure to her; she was always glad when it was over, and she was feeling that the thoughts which were said to comfort others were quite unable to reach her grief. There was no disbelief nor rebellion about her, only a dull weariness, and an inclination which she could hardly restrain, even while it shocked her, to thrust aside those religious consolations that were powerless to soothe her. She knew it was not their fault, she did not doubt of their reality; it was she who was not good enough to use them.
These words of Joe were to her as if he were speaking to her again. She laid them on her knee, murmured them over fondly, looked at them, and finally, for she was weak still and had had a bad night, fell fast asleep over them, and only wakened, as shouts of 'Mother' were heard over the house.
She locked the bureau in a hurry, and opened the door, calling back to the boys, and then she found that Aunt Ellen had taken all the three out walking, when Jock and Armine, with the remains of their money burning in their pockets, had insisted on buying two little ships, which must necessarily be launched in the Serpentine. Their aunt could by no means endure this, and Janet did not approve, so there seemed to have been a battle royal, in which Jock would have been the victor, if his little brother had not been led off captive between his aunt and sister, when Jock went along on the opposite side of the road, asserting his independence by every sort of monkey trick most trying to his aunt's rural sense of London propriety.
It was very ridiculous to see the tall, grave, stately Mrs. Robert Brownlow standing there describing the intolerable naughtiness of that imp, who, not a bit abashed, sat astride on the balustrade in the comfortable conviction that he was not hers.
'I hope, at least,' concluded the lady, 'that you will make them feel how bad their behaviour has been.'
'Jock,' said Carey mechanically, 'I am afraid you have behaved very ill to your aunt.'
'Why, Mother Carey,' said that little wretch, 'it is just that she doesn't know anything about anything in London.'
'Yes,' chimed in little Armine, who was hanging to his mother's skirts; 'she thought she should get to the Park by Duke Street.'
'That did not make it right for you not to be obedient,' said Carey, trying for severity.
'But we couldn't, mother.'
'Couldn't?' both echoed.
'No,' said Jock, 'or we should be still in Piccadilly. Mother Carey, she told us not to cross till it was safe.'
'And she stood up like the Duke of Bedford in the Square,' added Armine.
Janet caught her mother's eye, and both felt a spasm of uncontrollable diversion in their throats, making Janet turn her back, and Carey gasp and turn on the boys.
'All that is no reason at all. Go up to the nursery. I wish I could trust you to behave like a gentleman, when your aunt is so kind as to take you out.'
'I _did_, mother! I did hand her across the street, and dragged her out from under all the omnibus horses,' said Jock in an injured tone, while Janet could not refrain from a whispered comparison, 'Like a little steam-tug,' and this was quite too much for all of them, producing an explosion which made the tall and stately dame look from one to another in such bewildered amazement, that struck the mother and daughter as so comical that the one hid her face in her hands with a sort of hysterical heaving, and the other burst into that painful laughter by which strained spirits assert themselves in the young.
Mrs. Robert Brownlow, in utter astonishment and discomfiture, turned and walked off to her own room. Somehow Carey and Janet felt more on their ordinary terms than they had done all these sad days, in their consternation and a certain sense of guilt.
Carey could adjudicate now, though trembling still. She made Jock own that his Serpentine plans had been unjustifiable, and then she added, 'My poor boy, I must punish you. You must remember it, for if you are not good and steady, what _will_ become of us.'
Jock leapt at her neck. 'Mother, do anything to me. I don't mind, if you only won't look at me like that!'
She sat down on the stairs, all in a heap again with him, and sentenced him to the forfeit of the ship, which he endured with more tolerable grace, because Armine observed, 'Never mind, Skipjack, we'll go partners in mine. You shall have half my cargo of gold dust.'
Carey could not find it in her heart to check the voyages of the remaining ship, over the uncarpeted dining- room; but as she was going, Armine looked at her with his great soft eyes, and said, 'Mother Carey, have you got to be the scoldy and punishy one now?'
'I must if you need it,' said she, going down on her knees again to gather the little fellow to her breast; 'but, oh, don't-don't need it.'
'I'd rather it was Uncle Robert and Aunt Ellen,' said Jock, 'for then I shouldn't care.'
'Dear Jock, if you only care, I think we sha'n't want many punishments. But now I must go to your aunt, for we did behave horribly ill to her.'
Aunt Ellen was kind, and accepted Carey's apology when she found that Jock had really been punished. Only
