Chapter Two.
Why Mr Tooke came.
After tea the young people had to learn their lessons for the next day. They always tried to get these done, and the books put away, before Mr Proctor came in on his shop being shut, and the business of the day being finished. He liked to find his children at liberty for a little play, or half an hour of pleasant reading; or, in the winter evenings, for a dance to the music of his violin. Little Harry had been known to be kept up far too late, that he might hear the violin, and that his papa might enjoy the fun of seeing him run about among the rest, putting them all out, and fancying he was dancing. All believed there would be time for play with papa to-night, tea had been so much earlier than usual. But Agnes soon feared there would be no play for Hugh. Though Jane pored over her German, twisting her forefinger in the particular curl which she always twisted when she was deep in her lessons; though Agnes rocked herself on her chair, as she always did when she was learning by heart; and though Mrs Proctor kept Harry quiet at the other end of the room with telling him long stories, in a very low voice, about the elephant and Brighton pier, in the picture-book, Hugh could not learn his capital cities. He even spoke out twice, and stopped himself when he saw all the heads in the room raised in surprise. Then he set himself to work again, and he said “Copenhagen” so often over that he was not likely to forget the word; but what country it belonged to he could not fix in his mind, though Agnes wrote it down large on the slate, in hopes that the sight of the letters would help him to remember. Before he had got on to “Constantinople,” the well-known sound was heard of the shop-boy taking the shop-shutters out of their day-place, and Mr Proctor would certainly be coming presently. Jane closed her dictionary, and shook back her curls from over her eyes; Mrs Proctor put down Harry from her lap, and let him call for papa as loud as he would; and papa came bustling in, and gave Harry a long toss, and several topplings over his shoulder, and yet Hugh was not ready.
“Come, children,” said Mr Proctor to Agnes and Hugh, “we have all done enough for to-day. Away with books and slates!”
“But, papa,” said Agnes, “Hugh has not quite done. If he might have just five minutes more, Miss Harold—”
“Never mind what Miss Harold says! That is, you girls must; but between this and Michaelmas—”
He stopped short, and the girls saw that it was a sign from their mother that made him do so. He immediately proceeded to make so much noise with Harry, that Hugh discovered nothing more than that he might put away his books, and not mind Miss Harold this time. If she asked him to-morrow why he had not got down to “Constantinople,” he could tell her exactly what his father had said. So merry was Hugh’s play this evening. He stood so perfectly upright on his father’s shoulders, that he could reach the top of his grandmamma’s picture, and show by his finger-ends how thick the dust lay upon the frame: and neither he nor his father minded being told that he was far too old for such play.
In the midst of the fun, Hugh had a misgiving, more than once, of his mother having something severe to say to him when she should come up to his room, to hear him say his prayer, and to look back a little with him upon the events of the day. Besides his consciousness that he had done nothing well this day, there were grave looks from his mother which made him think that she was not pleased with him. When he was undressing, therefore, he listened with some anxiety for her footsteps, and, when she appeared, he was ready with his confession of idleness. She stopped him in the beginning, saying that she had rather not hear any more such confessions. She had listened to too many, and had allowed him to spend in confessions some of the strength which should have been applied to mending his faults. For the present, while she was preparing a way to help him to conquer his inattention, she advised him to say nothing to her, or to any one else, on the subject; but this need not prevent him from praying to God to give him strength to overcome his great fault.
“Oh, mother! Mother!” cried Hugh, in an agony, “you give me up! What shall I do if you will not help me any more?”
His mother smiled, and told him he need not fear any such thing. It would be very cruel to leave off providing him with food and clothes, because it gave trouble to do so; and it would be far more cruel to abandon him to his faults, for such a reason. She would never cease to help him till they were cured: but, as all means yet tried had failed, she must plan some others; and meantime she did not wish him to become hardened to his faults, by talking about them every night, when there was no amendment during the day.
Though she spoke very kindly, and kissed him before she went away, Hugh felt that he was punished. He felt more unhappy than if his mother had told him all she thought of his idleness. Though his mother had told him to go to sleep, and blessed him, he could not help crying a little, and wishing that he was a Crofton boy. He supposed the Crofton boys all got their lessons done somehow, as a matter of course; and then they could go to sleep without any uncomfortable feelings or any tears.
In the morning all these thoughts were gone. He had something else to think about; for he had to play with Harry, and take care of him, while Susan swept and dusted the parlour: and Harry was bent upon going into the shop—a place where, according to the rule of the house, no child of the family was ever to set foot till it was old enough to be trusted; nor to taste anything there, asked or unasked. There were some poisonous things in the shop, and some few nice syrups and gums; and no child could be safe and well there who could not let alone whatever might be left on the counter, or refuse any nice taste that a good-natured shopman might offer. Harry was, as yet, far too young; but, as often as the cook washed the floor-cloth in the passage, so that the inner shop-door had to be opened, Master Harry was seized with an unconquerable desire to go and see the blue and red glass bowls which he was permitted to admire from the street, as he went out and came in from his walks. Mr Proctor came down this morning as Hugh was catching Harry in the passage. He snatched up his boys, packed one under each arm, and ran with them into the yard, where he rolled Harry up in a new mat, which the cook was going to lay at the house-door.
“There!” said he. “Keep him fast, Hugh, till the passage-door is shut. What shall we do with the rogue when you are at Crofton, I wonder?”
“Why, papa! He will be big enough to take care of himself by that time.”
“Bless me! I forgot again,” exclaimed Mr Proctor, as he made haste away into the shop.
Before long, Harry was safe under the attraction of his basin of bread and milk; and Hugh fell into a reverie at the breakfast-table, keeping his spoon suspended in his hand as he looked up at the windows, without seeing anything. Jane asked him twice to hand the butter before he heard.
“He is thinking how much four times seven is,” observed Mr Proctor: and Hugh started at the words.
“I tell you what, Hugh,” continued his father; “if the Crofton people do not teach you how much four times seven is when you come within four weeks of next Christmas-day, I shall give you up, and them too, for dunces all.”
All the eyes round the table were fixed on Mr Proctor in an instant.
“There now!” said he, “I have let the cat out of the bag. Look at Agnes!” and he pinched her crimson cheek.
Everybody then looked at Agnes, except Harry, who was busy looking for the cat which papa said had come out of mamma’s work-bag. Agnes could not bear the gaze, and burst into tears.
“Agnes has taken more pains to keep the secret than her papa,” said Mrs Proctor. “The secret is, that Hugh is going to Crofton next month.”
“Am I ten, then?” asked Hugh, in his hurry and surprise.
“Scarcely; since you were only eight and a quarter yesterday afternoon,” replied his father.
“I will tell you all about it by-and-by, my dear,” said his mother. Her glance towards Agnes made all the rest understand that they had better speak of something else now. So Mr Proctor beckoned Harry to come and see whether the cat had not got into the bag again, as she was not to be seen anywhere else. It is true, the bag was not much bigger than a cat’s head; but that did not matter to Harry, who never cared for that sort of consideration, and had been busy for half an hour, the day before, in trying to put the key of the house-door into the key-hole of the tea-caddy.
By the time Agnes had recovered herself, and the table was cleared, Miss Harold had arrived. Hugh brought his books with the rest, but, instead of opening them, rested his elbow on the uppermost, and stared full at Miss Harold.
“Well, Hugh!” said she, smiling.
“I have not learned quite down to ‘Constantinople,’” said he. “Papa told me I need not, and not to mind you.”
“Why, Hugh! Hush!” cried Jane.
“He did,—he said exactly that. But he meant, Miss Harold, that I am to be a Crofton boy,—directly, next month.”
“Then have we done with one another, Hugh?” asked Miss Harold, gently. “Will you not learn any more from me?”
“That is for your choice, Miss Harold,” observed Mrs Proctor. “Hugh has not deserved the pains you have taken with him: and if you decline more trouble with him now he is going into other hands, no one can wonder.”
Miss Harold feared that he was but poorly prepared for school, and was quite ready to help him, if he would give his mind to the effort. She thought that play, or reading books that he liked, was less waste of time than his common way of doing his lessons; but if he was disposed really to work, with the expectation of Crofton before him, she was ready to do her best to prepare him for the real hard work he would have to do there. His mother proposed that he should have time to consider whether he would have a month’s holiday or a month’s work, before leaving home. She had to go out this morning. He might go with her, if he liked; and as they returned, they would sit down in the Temple Garden, and she would tell him all about the plan.
Hugh liked this beginning of his new prospects. He ran to be made neat for his walk with his mother. He knew he must have the wet curl on his forehead twice over to day, but he comforted himself with hoping that there would be no time at Crofton for him to be kept standing, to have his hair done so particularly, and to be scolded all the while, and then kissed, like a baby, at the end.