“I think the present way is an admirable one for showing the boy his folly. The bird who kept company with the jackdaws had his neck wrung, innocent as he was. I want Lindon to see how very near he has been to having his neck wrung through keeping company with a jackdaw. Now, my dear Laura, leave it to me. The magistrates will grasp the case at once, and Master Lindon will receive a severe admonition from some one else, which will bring him to his senses, and then we shall go on quite smoothly again.”
“You cannot tell how happy you have made me feel,” said Mrs Lavington, as she wept silently.
“Well,” said Uncle Josiah, “I want to make you happy, you poor timid little bird. Now, then, try to believe that I am acting for the best.”
“And you will not be so stern with him?”
“As far as my lights will illumine me, I will do what is right by my sister’s boy, Laura—the lad I want to see grow up into a straightforward Englishman, proud of his name. There, can I say more fairly than that?”
“No. I only beg that you will think of Lindon as a high-spirited boy, who, though he does not always do as you wish, is still extremely sensitive.”
“Proud and stubborn, eh, Laura?”
“I will say no more, my own brother, only leave myself in your hands.”
“Yes, you may well look at the clock,” said Uncle Josiah, laughing, as he put his arm round his sister, and kissed her very tenderly; “the young dog is unconscionably late.”
“You do not think—after what I said?”