“I believe Flapsy can’t live without it,” sighed Agatha.
“But would you speak to her? I don’t think she ought to let him give her boxes of bonbons—to keep up in her room, and never give a hint to Maidie.”
Agatha did speak but the effect was to set Vera into crying out at every one being so intolerably cross about such a trifle, Gillian Merrifield and all!
“Did Gillian speak to you?”
“Yes, as if she had any business to do so!”
“I am sure it is not the way she would treat Captain Armitage.”
“I don’t believe she cares for Captain Armitage one bit! You said yourself that all the girls at Oxford thought she cared much more for her horrid examination! I wouldn’t be a dry, cold-hearted, insensible stick like her for the world.”
“Perhaps she is the more quietly in earnest,” said Agatha, repenting a little that she had told before Vera the college jokes over what had leaked out of Gillian’s reception of Ernley Armitage when he had hastened up to Oxford as soon as his ship was paid off, and she had been called down to him in the Lady Principal’s room. Report said that she had only prayed him to keep out of the way, and not to upset her brain, and that he had meekly obeyed—as one who knew what it was to have promotion depending on it.
It was a half truth, exaggerated, but it had not a happy effect on Vera. Nevertheless, the finishing push of preparation brought on such a succession of violent headaches as quite to disable the really delicate boy. Moreover, the tutor declared that there had been little chance of his success, and Dr. Dagger said that he had much better not try again. The best hope for his health, and even for his life, was to keep him at home for a few years, and give him light work.
He had never been the pleasantest element in the household; and if his parents were glad of the avoidance of the risk of a launch into the world, and his mother’s love rejoiced in the power of watching over him, there were others who felt his temper a continual trial, while his career was a perplexity.