Then she would flush up angrily, and turn a reproachful look upon my uncle, as he questioned the boys and the masters, entered into what seemed to be angry controversies with the Doctor, and generally went against me all through, until I began to look at him with horror, as the greatest enemy I had in the room.
That I was not alone in my opinion was soon evident, for I heard the Doctor sigh, and look reproachfully at him, while twice over Sir Hawkhurst uttered a gruff,—
“No, no, sir. Oh, come, come, Seaborough, be just.”
“I am trying to be just,” said my uncle sternly, after the General had said this last again. “Recollect, sir, I stand in the position of this boy’s father. He is my dear sister’s only child, and it has been my great desire to have him brought up as a worthy successor to his brave father,—as a soldier and a gentleman,—and because I speak firmly and feel warmly upon the subject, you say, ‘Be just.’”
“Well, well,” cried the General, “you have struck me several times as being hard.”
“Yes, Sir Hawkhurst,” assented the Doctor; “perhaps too hard.”
“Absurd, gentlemen!” cried my uncle. “I’m not the boy’s mother, to forgive him after a few tears, and tell him he must be a good boy, and never do so again.”
“Colonel Seaborough,” cried Mrs Doctor reproachfully, “and pray who is to forgive, if it is not a mother?”
“A beautiful sentiment, madam,” cried my uncle; “but you forget that, after building up my hopes on this boy’s success in life, I am suddenly summoned, not to come ready to defend him from the foul charge, but to have it literally forced upon me that my nephew— No, I’ll discard him. If this really is true, and he is proved to be a pitiful, unmanly, contemptible thief, I have done with him for ever.”
“No, no, sir,” said the Doctor. “You shall not say that. You are a Christian, and you belie your own belief.”