'Oh, papa, papa! thank you!' cried Ethel, enraptured, as soon as he came into the room. 'How very kind of you! How I have wished to see the Grange, and all Norman talks about! Oh, dear! I am so glad you are going there too!'
'Why, what should you do with me?' said Dr. May, who felt and looked depressed at this taking up of the world again.
'Oh, dear! I should not like it at all without you! It would be no fun at all by ourselves. I wish Flora would come home. How pleased she will be! Papa, I do wish you would look as if you didn't mind it! I can't enjoy it if you don't like going.'
'I shall when I am there, my dear,' said the doctor affectionately, putting his arm around her as she stood by him. 'It will be a fine day's sport for you.'
'But can't you like it beforehand, papa?'
'Not just this minute, Ethel,' said he, with his bright, sad smile. 'All I like just now is my girl's not being able to do without me; but we'll do the best we can. So your flock acquitted themselves brilliantly? Who is your Senior Wrangler?'
Ethel threw herself eagerly into the history of the examination, and had almost forgotten the invitation till she heard the front door open. Then it was not she, but Margaret, who told Flora--Ethel could not, as she said, enjoy what seemed to sadden her father. Flora received it much more calmly. 'It will be very pleasant,' said she; 'it was very kind of papa to consent. You will have Richard and Norman, Margaret, to be with you in the evening.'
And, as soon as they went upstairs, Ethel began to write down the list of prizes in her school journal, while Flora took out the best evening frocks, to study whether the crape looked fresh enough.
The invitation was a convenient subject of conversation, for Norman had so much to tell his sisters of the curiosities they must look for at the Grange, that he was not obliged to mention Cocksmoor. He did not like to mortify Ethel by telling her his intense disgust, and he knew he was about to do what she would think a great injury by speaking to his father on the subject; but he thought it for her real welfare, and took the first opportunity of making to his father and Margaret a most formidable description of Ethel's black-hole. It quite alarmed Margaret, but the doctor smiled, saying, 'Ay, ay, I know the face Norman puts on if he looks into a cottage.'
'Well,' said Norman, with some mortification, 'all I know is, that my head ached all the rest of the day.'
'Very likely, but your head is not Ethel's, and there were twice as many people as the place was intended to hold.'
'A stuffy hole, full of peat-smoke, and with a window that can't open at the best of times.'
'Peat-smoke is wholesome,' said Dr. May, looking provoking.
'You don't know what it is, papa, or you would never let Ethel spend her life there. It is poisonous!'
'I'll take care of Ethel,' said Dr. May, walking off, and leaving Norman in a state of considerable annoyance at being thus treated. He broke out into fresh exclamations against the horrors of Cocksmoor, telling Margaret she had no idea what a den it was.
'But, Norman, it can't be so very bad, or Richard would not allow it.'
'Richard is deluded!' said Norman; 'but if he chooses to run after dirty brats, why should he take Ethel there?'
'My dear Norman, you know it is all Ethel's doing.'
'Yes, I know she has gone crazy after them, and given up all her Greek for it. It is past endurance!' said Norman, who had worked himself up into great indignation.
'Well, but surely, Norman, it is better they should do what they can for those poor creatures, than for Ethel to learn Greek.'
'I don't know that. Let those who are fit for nothing else go and drone over A B C with ragged children, if they like. It is just their vocation; but there is an order in everything, Margaret, and minds of a superior kind are intended for higher purposes, not to be wasted in this manner.'
'I don't know whether they are wasted,' said Margaret, not quite liking Norman's tone, though she had not much to say to his arguments.
'Not wasted? Not in doing what any one can do? I know what you'll say about the poor. I grant it, but high ability must be given for a purpose, not to be thrown away. It is common-sense, that some one must be meant to do the dirty work.'
'I see what you mean, Norman, but I don't quite like that to be called by such a name. I think--' she hesitated. 'Don't you think you dislike such things more than--'
'Any one must abominate dirt and slovenliness. I know what you mean. My father thinks 'tis all nonsense in me, but his profession has made him insensible to such things, and he fancies every one else is the same! Now, Margaret, am I unreasonable?'
'I am sure I don't know, dear Norman,' said Margaret, hesitating, and feeling it her duty to say something; 'I dare say it was very disagreeable.'
'And you think, too, that I made a disturbance for nothing?'
'No, indeed I don't, nor does dear papa. I have no doubt he will see whether it is proper for Ethel. All I think he meant is, that perhaps your not being well last winter has made you a little more sensitive in such things.'
Norman paused, and coloured. He remembered the pain it had given him to find himself incapable of being of use to his father, and that he had resolved to conquer the weakness of nerve of which he was ashamed; but he did not like to connect this with his fastidious feelings of refinement. He would not own to himself that they were over nice, and, at the bottom of all this justification, rankled Richard's saying, that he who cared for such things was unfit for a clergyman. Norman's secret thought was, it was all very well for those who could only aspire to parish work in wretched cottages-- people who could distinguish themselves were more useful at the university, forming minds, and opening new discoveries in learning.
Was Norman quite proof against the consciousness of daily excelling all his competitors? His superiority had become even more manifest this Easter, when Cheviot and Forder, the two elder boys whom he had outstripped, left the school, avowedly, because it was not worth while for them to stay, since they had so little chance of the Randall scholarship. Norman had now only to walk over the course, no one even approaching him but Harvey Anderson.
Meta Rivers always said that fine weather came at her call, and so it did--glowing sunshine streaming over the shaven turf, and penetrating even the solid masses of the great cedar.
The carriage was sent for the Misses May, and at two o'clock they arrived. Flora, extremely anxious that Ethel should comport herself discreetly; and Ethel full of curiosity and eagerness, the only drawback her fears that her papa was doing what he disliked. She was not in the least shy, and did not think about her manner enough to be troubled by the consciousness that it had a good deal of abruptness and eagerness, and that her short sight made her awkward. Meta met them with outstretched hands and a face beaming with welcome. 'I told you I should get my way!' she said triumphantly, and, after her warm greeting, she looked with some respect at the face of the Miss May who was so very clever. It certainly was not what she expected, not at all like either of the four sisters she had already seen-- brown, sallow, and with that sharp long nose, and the eager eyes, and brow a little knit by the desire to see as far as she could. It was pleasanter to look at Flora.
Ethel left the talk chiefly to Flora--there was wonder and study enough farther in the grounds and garden, and when Mrs. Larpent tried to enter into conversation with her, she let it drop two or three times while she was peering hard at a picture and trying to make out its subject. However, when they all went out to walk to church, Ethel lighted up, and talked, admired, and asked questions in her quick, eager way, which interested Mrs. Larpent greatly. The governess asked after Norman, and no more was wanted to produce a volume of histories of his successes, till Flora turned as she walked before with Meta, saying, 'Why, Ethel, you are quite overwhelming Mrs. Larpent.'
But some civil answer convinced Ethel that what she said was interesting, and she would not be stopped in her account of their anxieties on the day of the examination. Flora was pleased that Meta, catching some words, begged to hear more, and Flora gave an account of the matter, soberer in terms, but quietly setting Norman at a much greater distance from all his competitors.
After church came the feast in the school. It was a large commodious building. Meta declared it was very tiresome that it was so good inside, it was so ugly, she should never rest till papa had built her a real beauty. They found Mr. and Mrs. Charles Wilmot in the school, with a very nice well-dressed set of boys and girls, and-- But there is no need to describe the roast-beef and plum-pudding, 'the feast ate merrily,' and Ethel was brilliantly happy
