On the afternoon of that day, Miss Trevor took possession of that apartment which, by means of thorough repairs, had been prepared for her reception. It was spacious enough to receive all the furniture which had been originally placed in the room now occupied by Bruce. Amongst other articles, the tall press of richly-carved oak occupied a conspicuous place; it had been moved with some difficulty from the position which it had held for two centuries, and now added to the stateliness, though not perhaps to the cheerfulness, of Miss Trevor’s apartment.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE ECLIPSE.
The demeanour of Mr. Trevor’s two sons, when they met at the dinner-table on that evening, was in strong contrast to each other. Bruce looked grave and stern, and had the appearance of one who is pale and weary from too close attention to study. Vibert, on the contrary, was in the highest spirits.
“Bruce, you look as the moon will look to-night under an eclipse!” cried Vibert; “you mean to tack to your name M.A. or D.L. or A.S.S., or some other mystical letters of the alphabet, and the shadow of coming distinction is falling on you already!”
“Is this the night of the eclipse?” asked Emmie, interposing, as was her wont, some indifferent remark to prevent any interchange of bitter words between her brothers.
“Yes; had you forgotten it?” said Vibert. “It is to be an almost total eclipse. We can hardly see it from any window in the house, the place is so smothered with trees; but there is a spot on the lawn from which we can get a very good view.”
“I wish that we had a telescope here,” observed Mr. Trevor.