“As it like you, Sir,” responded Jack airily. “I care not though I never see them again.”
“What ado is here!” said Lady Enville, as her husband departed. “I am sore afeared thou wilt have some trouble hereabout, Jack. Both thy father and aunt be of such ancient notions.”
Jack bent low, with a courtier’s grace, to kiss his step-mother’s hand.
“Trouble, Madam,” he said—and spoke truly—“trouble bideth no longer on me than water on a duck’s back.”
“And now tell me, Tremayne, what shall I do with this lad?”
“I am afeared, Sir Thomas, you shall find it hard matter to deal with him.”
“Good lack, these lads and lasses!” groaned poor Sir Thomas. “They do wear a man’s purse—ay, and his heart. Marry, but I do trust I gave no such thought and sorrow to my father! Yet in very deed my care for the future passeth it for the past. If Jack go on thus, what shall the end be?”
Mr Tremayne shook his head.
“Can you help me to any argument that shall touch the lad’s heart?”
“Argument ne’er touched a man’s heart yet,” said the Rector. “That is but for the head. There is but one thing that will touch the heart to any lasting purpose; and that is, the quickening grace of God the Holy Ghost.”