When the curate of Ashburn preached a funeral sermon, recalling to the minds of those who had practically benefited by them the virtues of their late rector, holly garlands hung in the fine old church, to commemorate the birth-time of One who came to bring “peace on earth, and good-will towards men;” but none dared to wish the widow and orphans “A Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year,” lest the wish might seem an insult to their sorrow.
CHAPTER II.—THE BROTHERS.
“Percy, I have been quiet so long, and you say I must not stand upon my head, because it disturbs mamma; do come out and let us ride the pony by turns,” implored little Hugh Colville in a strenuous whisper; which was, however, clearly audible throughout the small breakfast-parlour, which was the scene of our family picture.
Percy Colville, the shy, handsome boy of our sketch, looked up with a pensive smile from the writing on which he was engaged, and shook his head negatively, in token that he felt obliged to refuse the request of his younger brother, in whom the reader will recognise, with little difficulty, a certain Murillo-like urchin to whom he has been already introduced. But the petition of her youngest born had reached the ears of the widow, who (if she had a virtue which had outgrown its due proportions till cavillers might deem it a fault), was, perhaps, a little over indulgent to Master Hugh.
“My dear Percy, you have been writing for me long enough,” she said, “you will be ill if you shut yourself up too much; besides, Hugh has been so good that he deserves his ride, and you know I don’t like to trust him by himself.”
Percy hesitated: the writing on which he was engaged was the copy of a surveyor’s report concerning that vexata quaestic, dilapidations. Some difference of opinion had arisen on this subject between the agent of the patron of the living and Mrs. Colville’s solicitor, and a copy of the report was to be forwarded by the next post to Mr. Wakefield, Mrs. Calville’s legal adviser. The matter was of importance, involving a considerable sum of money. Percy was aware of these facts: he knew, also, that he could only just finish his task by the time the village post went out; and he was about to declare that Hugh must give up his ride for that day, when his mother, reading his thoughts-, stooped over him, and, kissing his pale brow, whispered—
“Do not refuse him, dear Percy: remember, he will not have many more rides——”
She paused, for her composure was failing, then finished in a trembling voice—