Mrs. Mowbray's little agitation had entirely subsided, and she answered with much solemnity, "You come to me, Charles, in a very abrupt manner, and apparently in a very thoughtless frame of mind, to speak on subjects which to my humble capacity seem fraught with consequences most awfully important.—The Horse Guards! Oh! Charles! is it possible you can have lived for many weeks in such a regenerated family as mine, and yet turn your thoughts towards a life so profane as that of an officer in the Horse Guards?"
"Let my life pass where it may, mother, I trust it will not be a profane one. I should ill repay my father's teaching if it were. This is the profession which he chose for me; it is the one to which I have always directed my hopes, and it is that which I decidedly prefer. I trust, therefore, that you will not object to my following the course which my most excellent father pointed out to me."
"I shall object to it, sir: and pray understand at once, that I will never suffer the intemperate pleadings of a hot-headed young man to overpower the voice of conscience in my heart."
Poor Mowbray felt inclined to exclaim,
"When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions."
For a moment he remained perfectly silent, and then said, "This is very terrible news for me, mother. You shall hear, I trust, no intemperate pleadings, but I hope you will let me reason with you on the subject. Surely you will not blame me for wishing in this, and in all things, to adhere as closely as may be to my dear father's wishes?"
"If your poor father, Charles, groped through life surrounded on all sides with outer darkness, is that any reason that I should suffer the son he left under my care and control to do so likewise? When he left the whole of my property at my whole and sole disposal, it was plain that he felt there was more hope of wisdom abiding in me than in you. It is herein, and herein only, that I must labour to do according to his wishes and his will, and endeavour so to act that all may see his confidence in me was not misplaced."
"For Heaven's sake, mother! think well before you determine upon disappointing all my hopes in this most cruel manner; and believe me, that no lookers-on between you and me—except perhaps the mischievous fanatic who has lately chosen to meddle so impertinently in our affairs—but will feel and say that I have been ill treated."
Had Mowbray not been stung and irritated as he was before this conversation, it is probable he would not have remonstrated thus warmly with a mother, whom he had ever been accustomed to treat with the most tender observance and respect.
She looked at him with equal anger and astonishment, and remained for some time without speaking a word, or withdrawing her eyes from his face. If her son felt inclined to quote Shakspeare at the beginning of the conversation, she might have done so at the end of it; for all she wished to say was comprised in these words: