“Well, do not speak, then, do not speak. Go off to your own employment, and settle down by yourselves; and do not say a word to your father, who makes sacrifices all day, that you may have every advantage; and was trying to arrange something else, that you might have further pleasure. Go away then, and do not speak. Behave as my children always do. Go away, without a word, to your own concerns.”
VI
“I hope, Uncle Peter,” said Francis, “that Mr. Herrick and Mr. Bumpus will excuse me for not being present at their literary inauguration. I have very little time to myself, and I am obliged to deny myself all recreative reading, and being read to must be counted under that head, I think. So, if you will make my apologies to the authors, I will leave you before they come in. Though I admit it hardly seems fair to deny myself as audience, as I am safe in that way myself. We clergymen have an unfair advantage.”
“Yes, the poor laity!” said Miss Lydia.
“The arrangement was just for Peter and me to hear the books,” said Theresa.
“Yes, yes,” said Francis, in a kindly voice. “Then I may betake myself with a clear conscience to the solid pursuits which must be my portion, I fear.”
“I too must go to my solid pursuits,” said Miss Lydia. “But the dear men things! How interested they have been in it all!”
“Well, listeners never hear good of themselves,” said Bumpus, coming in.
“But they don’t often hear anything as bad as that,” said Emily. “What are we to say? People don’t speak about their own kindness, and of course it is kindness in Dickie and Nicholas to be going to read their books to us.”
“Ah, yes, yes, it is all for us,” said Miss Lydia. “And we must not underrate the pleasure things.”
“Well, we shall not overrate them,” said Herrick.
“Could we overrate things of that kind?” said Emily. “Well, are you going boldly to begin, or am I to work at leading up to it? I couldn’t expect anyone else to do that. Peter admires you too much, and Lydia not nearly enough, and William and Theresa are above leading up to things.”
“Well, well, we might begin,” said Herrick.
“Yes, yes, begin, Herrick,” said Bumpus.
“Yes, it is your business, dear,” said Emily. “Dickie is a relative, and has to be put last in everything. It would be presuming upon your intimacy with the house to hold back.”
“It is so nice to help in any way,” said Miss Lydia.
“I said that Lydia did not admire you nearly enough,” said Emily.
“She really admires us terribly little,” said Bumpus.
“Well, she has killed any desire in me, but to do my simple best in anything I may undertake,” said Herrick, opening his papers.
“Yes, we must keep Lydia here. She will put the right spirit into it,” said Bumpus.
“Oh, no, no, I can’t be here. But it is so nice to be wanted, thank you, thank you. So nice to go off to what calls me most, feeling that I should be welcome at what calls me less, calls me too, though it does not need me. For it does call me. It does call me. But I must go to the need.”
“I am so proud of you for writing the book, Nicholas,” said Emily, “and especially for going to be known to have written it. And so remorseful for thinking you might not be great, when you always hinted. But the great always forgive.”
“Well, well,” said Herrick. “It came to me, you know, that night when we sat up in turns with old Crabbe. The whole thing came upon me, just through that little service to somebody else.”
“It was really too much reward,” said Emily. “But of course you deserved it.”
“Why, Bumpus,” said Herrick, looking at Bumpus’ papers over his shoulder; “your beginning sentence is the same as mine!”
“The same as yours?” said Bumpus. “Why, it can’t be. It can’t be, surely. Why, there wouldn’t be anything in common in our books.”
“Dickie, don’t say out what is in your mind openly to Nicholas,” said Emily.
“Why, what is there in an opening sentence?” said Herrick. “All opening sentences are much on a line, aren’t they? All books have got to begin.”
“Nicholas, you have had faith in yourself,” said Emily. “Do let us get it over. Anyhow, you have one sentence as good as Dickie. So let us have the beginning. That may be the only part we can bear.”
“Yes, get on, Herrick,” said Bumpus. “Your book is ready to the word, and mine isn’t. You are a greater than I. You have your own mind in hand.”
“I have sympathy with boasting,” said Emily. “I hope Nicholas has.”
“Yes, it is ready, Bumpus, it is ready,” said Herrick. “It may be the last and only thing, but something it is at last. You may all like to remember the day, when you heard it from my own lips.”
“But don’t spoil it for me by reminding me that I may be without a breadwinner,” said Emily; “especially as you don’t win any bread. Dickie is not doing things like that. I think I have
