Nelly in the meanwhile was made ready and sent off to visit an old parishioner, living on a farm thirty miles away. One of the children went for awhile every summer.
Louis improved rapidly. He had fretted somewhat about accepting the Churchills’ carriage, and begged papa to hire one for him, which had been done. He went out nearly every morning now, or if it was too warm, late in the afternoon. I think he was getting a little humanized, too. Occasionally he joined our circle and would often play with baby Edith, who laughed and talked her fashion if you looked at her. She was just as good and sweet as she could be.
Mr. Ogden did not come over, and went away on Saturday. That somehow stamped the episode as pastime. With all her gayety Fan did feel badly over it—a trifle mortified, I think, that he should have ventured upon such a freedom.
It was to make no change with the Churchills however. Indeed, we received quite a handsome compliment from them the next week. Mr. Churchill invited papa to go up in the mountains with him. He had some business with a tract of woodland that the railroad company wanted to purchase, and thought it would be a nice trip. They were to start Tuesday night and return Saturday noon.
The house always appeared so strange without him. Not but what mamma was quite capable of carrying it on, yet we missed him sadly. Ann lamented Nelly’s absence, and declared “there wasn’t a childer too many”. Fan and I sewed and had peculiar talks with Louis. I never could tell what he thought or what he believed, or whether he advanced these opinions for arguments’ sake. He had a great deal of morbid pride, and a way of putting all the briary parts outside. Everybody was selfish, he averred.
And he did have a fearful temper. Beside the quickness, it had in it a brooding vindictiveness. He couldn’t seem to forgive injuries or slights, and he was very jealous of Stuart, though he affected a lofty indifference to those bright engaging qualities.
Stuart on the other hand did get into a good deal of mischief. He headed raids on the farmers’ trees and melon-patches, and one night the water was let out of the dam, which caused a great commotion. Of course he was an immense favorite with the boys.
When papa came home there was a letter from Stephen, answering the one announcing the illness. He had been very much perplexed in the business and found it necessary to go to Paris. He would not be able to return until late in the Fall. As school began the tenth of September it would be best to send Stuart immediately. Would Mrs. Endicott see that his clothes were in order? If Louis preferred, when he was well enough to resume his studies, to board in some quiet family and take the lessons he needed, Stephen considered it a better plan.
“Not that I mean this to be construed into a desire for you to keep him, my dear friend,” he wrote. “You have too much on your hands already, and I feel as if I had added a great burthen. But if he decides upon this course will you make some inquiries for him, and help him to find a suitable person? I do not think him strong enough to be regularly in school.”
Louis made no comment for several days, then declared that he did not mean to be buried alive in a country village through a dreary winter. He would go back to Wilburton, but not enter the school. There were plenty of families who would take him to board, and he liked it there.