“It is all right,” said Harry; and the two brothers said no more; there was something rising up in their throats at the thought that they had very few more walks to take together to Bishop Whichcote’s school; Norman’s heart was very full at the prospect of another vacancy in his home, and Harry’s was swelling between the ardour of enterprise and the thought of bidding good-bye to each familiar object, and, above all, to the brother who had been his model and admiration from babyhood.
“June!” at length he broke out, “I wish you were going too. I should not mind it half so much if you were.”
“Nonsense, Harry! you want to be July after June all your life, do you? You’ll be much more of a man without me.”
That evening Dr. May called Harry into his study to ask him if his mind was made up; he put the subject fairly before him, and told him not to be deterred from choosing what he thought would be for the best by any scruples about changing his mind. “We shall not think a bit the worse of you; better now, than too late.”
There was that in his face and tone that caused Harry to say, in a stifled voice, “I did not think you would care so much, papa; I won’t go, if you do.”
Dr. May put his hand on his shoulder, and was silent. Harry felt a strange mixture of hope and fear, joy and grief, disappointment and relief. “You must not give it up on that account, my dear,” he said at length; “I should not let you see this, if it did not happen at a time when I can’t command myself as I ought. If you were an only son, it might be your duty to stay; being one of many, ‘tis nonsense to make a rout about parting with you. If it is better for you, it is better for all of us; and we shall do very well when you are once fairly gone. Don’t let that influence you for a moment.”
Harry paused, not that he doubted, but he was collecting his energies—“Then, papa, I choose the navy.”
“Then it is done, Harry. You have chosen in a dutiful, unselfish spirit, and I trust it will prosper with you; for I am sure your father’s blessing—aye, and your mother’s too, go with you! Now then,” after a pause, “go and call Richard. I want him to write to Ernescliffe about that naval school. You must take your leave of the Whichcote foundation on Friday. I shall go and give Dr. Hoxton notice tomorrow, and get Tom’s name down instead.”
And when the name of Thomas May was set down, Dr. Hoxton expressed his trust that it would pass through the school as free from the slightest blemish as those of Richard, Norman, and Harry May.
Now that Harry’s destiny was fixed, Ethel began to think of Cocksmoor again, and she accomplished another walk there with Richard, Flora, and Mary, to question Granny Hall about the children’s failure.