And difficult indeed did it seem to realize the cause of such a terrible dispensation; but happily for Mrs. Greville, she could still look up in love and trust, even when below all of comfort as of joy seemed departed; and in a few days she was enabled to resume her usual avocations, and, by an assumption of cheerfulness and constant employment, to restore some degree of peace and happiness to her child.
Neither Herbert nor Edward seemed inclined to converse on their walk home, and Mrs. Hamilton was so engrossed in thought for Mrs. Greville, that she did not feel disposed to speak either. Herbert was contrasting his father with Mary's, and with such a vivid sense of his own happier lot, that he felt almost oppressed with the thought, he was not, he never could be, grateful enough; for, what had he done to be so much more blessed? And when Mr. Hamilton, who, wondering at their long absence, had come out to meet them, put his arm affectionately round him, and asked him what could possibly make him look so pale and pensive, the boy's excited feelings completely overpowered him. He buried his face on his father's shoulder, and burst into tears; and then leaving his mother to explain it, for he felt quite sure she could, without his telling her, darted away and never stopped till he found himself in the sanctuary of his own room; and there he remained, trying to calm himself by earnest thought and almost unconscious prayer, till the dinner-bell summoned him to rejoin his family, which he did, quiet and gentle, but cheerful, as usual.
Edward did not forget the thoughts of the morning, but the struggles so to subdue his pride as to apologize to Robert, seemed very much more difficult when he was no longer hearing his aunt's earnest words; but he did conquer himself, and the fond approving look, with which he was rewarded, gave him such a glowing feeling of pleasure, as almost to lessen the pain of his humiliation.
CHAPTER VI.
CECIL GRAHAME'S PHILOSOPHY.—AN ERROR AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.—A MYSTERY AND A CONFIDENCE.
A few days after the events of the last chapter, Mrs. Hamilton, accompanied by Percy, called at Moorlands. Cecil Grahame was playing in the garden, and Percy remained with him, his good-nature often making him a companion, though there was nearly six years' difference in their age.
"Are you going to T— on Thursday, Percy? There will be such fine doings. Races and the county fair, and wild beasts and shows, and every thing delightful; of course, you will go?"
"I do not think it at all likely," replied young Hamilton.
"No!" repeated Cecil, much astonished. "Why, I was only saying the other day how much I should like to be as old as you are; it must be so delightful to be one's own master."