“It makes no odds to me,” returned Bobus, over his book.
“Oh! now!” cried Janet, “if it were only the pleasure of being free from patronage it would be something.”
“Gratitude!” said Bobus.
“I’ll show my gratitude,” said Janet; “we’ll give all of them at Kencroft all the fine clothes and jewels and amusements that ever they care for, more than ever they gave us; only it is we that shall give and they that will take, don’t you see?”
“Sweet charity,” quoth Bobus.
Those two were a great contrast; Janet had never been so radiant, feeling her sentence of banishment revoked, and realising more vividly than anyone else was doing, the pleasures of wealth. The cloud under which she had been ever since the coming to the Pagoda seemed to have rolled away, in the sense of triumph and anticipation; while Bobus seemed to have fallen into a mood of sarcastic ill-temper. His mother saw, and it added to her sense of worry, though her bright sweet nature would scarcely have fathomed the cause, even had she been in a state to think actively rather than to feel passively. Bobus, only a year younger than Allen, and endowed with more force and application, if not with more quickness, had always been on a level with his brother, and felt superior, despising Allen’s Eton airs and graces, and other characteristics which most people thought amiable. And now Allen had become son and heir, and was treated by everyone as the only person of importance. Bobus did not know what his own claims might be, but at any rate his brother’s would transcend them, and his temper was thoroughly upset.
Poor Caroline! She did not wholly omit to pray “In all time of our tribulation, in all time of our wealth, deliver us!” but if she had known all that was in her children’s hearts, her own would have trembled more.
And as to Ellen, the utmost she allowed herself to say was, “Well, I hope she will make a good use of it!”
While the Colonel, as trustee and adviser, had really a very considerable amount of direct importance and enjoyment before him, which might indeed be—to use his own useful phrase—“a fearful responsibility,” but was no small boon to a man with too much time on his hands.