“Of course you do, my boy,” said Lady Gowan proudly. “There, kiss me and go. I have to play butterfly in the court sunshine for a while; but how glad shall I be to get away from it all to our dear old country home.”
“And so shall I, mother,” cried Frank, with his eyes sparkling.
“For a holiday, Frank. Life is not to be all play, my boy; and recollect that play comes the sweeter after good work done. There, I had you here for a pleasant chat, and I have done nothing but give you lessons on being loyal to your king; but we are separated so much, I have so few opportunities for talking to you, that I am obliged to give you a little serious advice.”
“Go on talking to me like that, mother,” said the boy, clinging to her. “I like to hear you.”
“And you always will, won’t you, Frank?”
“Of course,” he said proudly.
“One word Frank, dear, and then you must go. Do you know why I have spoken like this? No, I will not make a question of it, but tell you at once. Andrew Forbes”—Frank started and changed colour—“is your very close companion, and with all his vanity and little weaknesses, he is still a gallant lad and a gentleman. Poor boy! he is very strangely placed here at the court, an attendant on the Prince and Princess, while his father is known to be a staunch adherent of the Pretender—a Jacobite. He was your father’s closest friend, and I knew his poor wife—Andrew’s mother—well. It was very sad her dying so young, and leaving her motherless boy to the tender mercies of a hard world just when dissensions led his father to take the other side. The Princess knows everything about him, and it was at my request that he was placed here, where I could try and watch over him. Now, naturally enough, Andrew has leanings toward his father’s side; but he must be taught to grow more and more staunch to the King, and I want you, who are his closest companion, to carefully avoid letting him influence you, while you try hard to wean him from every folly, so that, though he is older in some things, he may learn the right way from my calm, grave, steady boy.”
“But, mother—”
“Yes,” she said, smiling; “I can guess what you are about to say. Go, dearest. No: not another word.—Yes, I am ready now.”
This to her maid, who was standing in the doorway, looking very severe; and Frank was hurried out to return to his own quarters.