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Albinia sent Maurice to summon Ulick to enjoy the letter in store for him. He looked grave and embarra.s.sed, and did not light up as usual at Bryan's praises. He said that his aunt, who had written to him on business, had given a bad account of Mr. Goldsmith, but Albinia hardly thought this accounted for his preoccupation, and was considering how to probe it, when her brother Maurice opened the door. 'Ulick O'More!
that's right; the very man I was in search of!'
'How's Winifred, Maurice?'
'Getting on wonderfully well. I really think she is going to make a start, after all! and she is in such spirits herself.'
'And the boy?'
'Oh, a thumping great fellow! I promise you he'll be a match for your Maurice.'
'I do believe it is to reward Winifred for sparing you in the spring when we wanted you so much! Come, sit down, and wait for Edmund.'
'No; I've not a moment to stay. I'm to meet Bury again at Woodside at six o'clock, he drove me there, and I walked on, looking in at your lodgings by the way, Ulick.'
'I'm not there now. I am keeping guard at the bank.'
'So they told me. Well, I hope your guard is not too strict for you to come over to Fairmead on Sunday; we want you to do our boy the kindness to be his G.o.dfather!'
Sophy blushed with approving grat.i.tude.
'I don't consider that it will be a sinecure--he squalls in such a characteristic manner that I am convinced he will rival his cousin here in all amiable and amenable qualities; so I consider it particularly desirable that he should be well provided with great disciplinarians.'
'You certainly could not find any one more accomplished in teaching dunces to read,' said Albinia.
'When their mammas have taught them already!' added Ulick, laughing.
'Thank you; but you know I can't sleep out; Hyder Ali and I are responsible for a big chest of sovereigns, and all the rest of it.'
'Nor could I lodge you at present; so we are agreed. My proposition is that you should drive my sister over on Sunday morning. My wife is wearying for a sight of her; and she has not been at Fairmead on a Sunday since she left it, eh, Albinia?'
'I suppose for such a purpose it is not wrong to use the horse,' she said, her eyes sparkling.
'And you might put my friend Maurice between you, if you can't go out pleasuring without him.'
'I scorn you, sir; Maurice is as good as gold; I shall leave him at home, I think, to prove that I can--'
'That's the reward of merit!' exclaimed Sophy.
'She expects my children to corrupt him!' quoth Mr. Ferrars.
'For shame, Maurice; that's on purpose to make me bring him. Well, we'll see what papa says, and if he thinks the new black horse strong enough, or to be trusted with Mr. O'More.'
'I only wish 'twas a jaunting car!' cried Ulick.
'And what's the boy's name to be? Not Belraven, I conclude, like my unfortunate grandson--Maurice, I hope.'
'No; the precedent of his namesake would be too dangerous. I believe he is to be Edmund Ulick. Don't take it as too personal, Ulick, for it was the name of our mutual connexion.'
'I take the personal part though, Maurice; and thank you, said Albinia, and Mr. Ferrars looked more happy and joyous than any time since his wife's health had begun to fail. Always cheerful, and almost always taking matters up in the most lively point of view, it was only by comparison that want of spirits in him could be detected; and it was chiefly by the vanis.h.i.+ng of a certain careworn, anxious expression about his eyes, and by the ring of his merry laugh, that Albinia knew that he thought better of his wife's state than for the last five or six years.
Albinia and Ulick drove off at six o'clock on a lovely summer Sunday morning, with Maurice between them in a royal state of felicity. That long fresh drive, past summer hay-fields sleeping in their silver bath of dew, and villages tardily awakening to the well-earned Sunday rest, was not the least pleasant part of the day; and yet it was completely happy, not even clouded by one outbreak of Master Maurice. Luckily for him, Mary had a small cla.s.s, who absorbed her superabundant love of rule; and little Alby was a fair-haired, apple-cheeked maiden of five, who awoke both admiration and chivalry, and managed to coquet with him and Ulick both at once, so that Willie had no disrespect to his sisters to resent.
He was exemplary at church, well-behaved at dinner, and so little on his mamma's mind, that she had a delightful renewal of her acquaintance with the Sunday-school, and a leisurable gossip with Mrs. Reid and the two Miss Reids, collectively and individually; but the best of all was a long quiet tete-a-tete with Winifred.
After the evening service, Mr. Ferrars himself carried his newly-christened boy back to the mother, and paused that his sister might come with him, and they might feel like the old times, when the three had been alone together.
'Yes,' said Winifred, when he had left them, 'it is very pretty playing at it; but one cannot be the same.'
'Nor would one exactly wish it,' said Albinia; 'though I think you are going to be more the same.'
'Perhaps,' said Winifred; 'the worst of being ill is that it does wear one's husband so! When he came in, and tried to make me fancy we were gone back to Willie's time, I could not help thinking how different you both looked.'
'Well, so much the better and more respectable,' said Albinia. 'You know I always wanted to grow old; I don't want to stop short like your sister Anne, who looks as much the child of the house as ever.
'I wish you had as few cares as Anne. Look; I declare that's a grey hair!'
'I know. I like it; now Sophy is growing young, and I'm growing old, it is all correct.'
'Old, indeed!' e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Winifred, looking at her fair fresh complexion and bright features; 'don't try for that, when even Edmund is not grey.'
'Yes he is,' said Albinia, gravely; 'Malta sowed many white threads in his black head, and worry about those buildings has brought more.'
'Worry; I'm very sorry to hear of it.'
'Yes; the tenures are so troublesome, and everybody is so cantankerous.
If he wanted to set up some pernicious manufacture, it could not be worse! The Osbornes, after having lived with Tibb's Alley close to them all their lives, object to the almshouses! Mr. Baron wont have the new drains carried through his little strip of land. The Town Council think we are going to poison the water; and Pettilove, and everybody else who owns a wretched tenement, that we shall increase the wants of their tenants, and lower their rents. If it be carried through, it will be by that sheer force in going his own way that Edmund can exert when he chooses.'
'And he will?'
'O, yes, no fear of that; he goes on, avoiding seeing or hearing what he has not to act upon; but worse than all are the people themselves; Tibb's Alley all has notice to quit, but none of them can be got rid of till Martinmas, and some not till Lady-day, and the beer-house people are in such a rage! The turn-out of the public-houses come and roar at our gate on Sat.u.r.day nights; and they write up things on the wall against him! and one day they threw over into the garden what little Awkey called a poor dear dead p.u.s.s.y. I believe they tell them all sorts of absurd things about his tyranny; poor creatures.'
'Can't you get it stopped?'
'Edmund wont summon any one, because he thinks it would do more harm than good. He says it will pa.s.s off; but it grieves him more than he shows: he thinks he could once have made himself more popular: but I don't know, it is a horrid set.'
'I thought you said he was in good spirits.'
'And so he is: he never gets depressed and unwilling to be spoken to.
He is ready to take interest in everything; and always so busy! When I remember how he never seemed to be obliged to attend to anything, I laugh at the contrast; and yet he goes about it all so gravely and slowly, that it never seems like a change.'
In this and other home talk nearly an hour had pa.s.sed, when Mr. Ferrars returned. 'Are you come to tell me to go?' said Albinia.
'Not particularly,' he said, in a tone that made her laugh.
'No, no,' said Winifred. 'I want a great deal more of her. Where have you been?'
'I have been to see old Wilks; Ulick walked down with me. By-the-bye, Albinia, what nonsense has Fred's wife been talking to his brother?'
'Emily does not talk nonsense!' fired up Albinia, colouring, nevertheless.