Lettice wondered what they meant, for she had never heard of her Uncle Walter being with Lord Oxford. She had never much liked Uncle Walter. He was always rather stiff and stern, and he used to come down sharply on niece or nephew if they did any thing wrong, yet not like her Grandfather Murthwaite, who was slow and solemn, and seemed to mourn over their evil deeds; but Uncle Walter was quick and sharp, and he snapped at them. They were under the impression that he never could have done a naughty thing in the whole course of his life, because he always seemed so angry and astonished to see the children do so. Lettice, therefore, was curious to hear about Uncle Walter.
“Well,” said Aunt Joyce, “not exactly the same, yet too like. He’ll take the colour of his company, like Walter: and he shall be evenly free-handed with his money—”
Lettice stared, though there was nothing to stare at but Aunt Joyce’s big grey cat, curled up in the window-seat Uncle Walter a spendthrift! she could not even imagine it. Did she not remember her Cousin Jane’s surprise when her father gave her a shilling for a birthday present? When Lettice listened again, Aunt Joyce was saying—
“He’s no standing-ground. Whatso be the fantasy of the moment, after it he goes; and never stays him to think what is like to come thereof, far less what might come. But that which causes me fear more for him than Walter, is the matter of friends. Walter was not one to run after folks; he was frighted of lowering himself in the eyes of them he knew, but methinks he ran not after them as Aubrey doth. Hast ever watched a dog make friends of other dogs? for Aubrey hath right the dog’s way. After every dog he goes, and gives a sniff at him; and if the savour suit, he’s Hail, fellow, well met! with him the next minute. Beware that Aubrey makes no friend he bringeth not home, so far as you can: and yet, Beware whom he bringeth, for Lettice’ sake. ’Tis hard matter: ‘good for the head is evil for the neck and shoulders.’ To govern that lad shall ask no little wisdom; and if thou have it not, thou knowest where to ask. I would his mother had more, or that his father had lived. Well! that’s evil wishing; God wist better than I. But the lad ’ll be a sore care to thee, and an heavy.”
“I fear so much, indeed,” said Lady Louvaine, and she sighed.
Then Edith came in, and exclaimed, “What, all in the dark?” and Aunt Joyce bade her call Rebecca to bring light. So the naughty Lettice slipped out, and in five minutes more came boldly in, and no one knew what she had heard.
As they sat round the fire that evening, Aunt Joyce asked suddenly, “Tell me, you three young folks, what be your ambitions? What desire you most of all things to be, do, or have?—Lettice?”
“Why, Aunt, I can scarce tell,” said Lettice, “for I never thought thereupon.”
“She should choose to be beautiful, of course,” suggested Aubrey. “All women do.”
“Marry come up, my young Master!” cried his Aunt Temperance.