‘I always told him so,’ said Charles. ‘Pure malignity!’
‘Nonsense, Charlie!’ said Guy, sharply; ‘there is no such thing about him.’
‘Come, Guy; I can’t stand this,’ said Mr. Edmonstone. ‘I won’t have him defended; I never thought to be so deceived; but you all worshipped the boy as if every word that came out of his mouth was Gospel truth, and you’ve set him up till he would not condescend to take an advice of his own father, who little thought what an upstart sprig he was rearing; but I tell him he has come to the wrong shop for domineering—eh, mamma?’
‘Well!’ cried Mrs. Edmonstone, who had read till near the end with tolerable equanimity; this really is too bad!’
‘Mamma and all!’ thought poor Laura, while her mother continued,—‘It is wilful prejudice, to say the least,—I never could have believed him capable of it!’
Charles next had the letter, and was commenting on it in a style of mingled sarcasm and fury; while Laura longed to see it justify itself, as she was sure it would.
‘Read it, all of you—every bit,’ said Mr. Edmonstone, ‘that you may see this paragon of yours!’
‘I had rather not,’ said Amy, shrinking as it came towards her.
‘I should like you to do so, if you don’t dislike it very much,’ said Guy.
She read in silence; and then came the turn of Laura, who marvelled at the general injustice as she read.