Mrs. Hamilton had been particularly cautious, in her interview with Mr. Grahame, not to speak any word for or against Miss Malison; perhaps had she said what she really thought, even this concession would not have been made.
Mr. Grahame's fixed and sudden determination to send Lilla to school was, of course, laid by Annie and her confidant to Mrs. Hamilton's charge, and increased not a little their prejudice against her, adding fresh incentive to their schemes for the destruction of her peace, which Caroline's self-willed conduct now rendered even more easy than it had previously been.
When all was arranged, when it was decidedly settled that Lilla should join Mrs. Douglas's establishment at the conclusion of the midsummer vacation, her father quietly entered the study where she was alone, to give her this information, and his really fond heart could not gaze on her without admiration. She was now nearly fifteen, though in looks, manners, and conversation, from being kept under such continual restraint, she always appeared at first sight very much younger. Childlike in every movement, even her impetuosity might have aided the deception; and Lady Helen herself had so often indolently answered questions concerning her daughter's age, she believed she was about twelve or thirteen, that at length she really believed it was so. It was Annie and Miss Malison's interest to preserve this illusion; for were she recognised as fifteen, many privileges might have been acceded to her, very much at variance with their interest. Annie had no desire for a rival to present herself, which, had her sister appeared in public, would undoubtedly have been the case; Lilla gave promise of beauty, which, though not perhaps really so perfect as Annie's, would certainly have attracted fully as much notice. She was drawing a tiny wreath of brilliant flowers on a small portfolio, which she was regarding with a complacency that added brilliancy to her animated features. At her father's well-known step she looked up in some little terror, and rose, as was her custom whenever she first saw him in the morning; her fear could not check the sparkling lustre of her eye, and Grahame, taking her hand, said kindly—
"I have some news for my little girl, which I trust will prove as agreeable as I have every reason to hope they may. Mrs. Douglas will gladly consent to receive my Lilla as an inmate of her happy family."
The flush of animation, the sparkling lustre of her eye faded on the instant, and she turned away.
"Why, our kind friend, Mrs. Hamilton, bade me hope this would be pleasing intelligence; has she deceived me, love?" continued her father, drawing her with such unwonted tenderness to him, that, after a glance of bewilderment, she flung her arms round his neck, and for the first time in her life wept passionately on her father's shoulder.
"Can it be pleasure to hear I am to go from you and mamma?" she exclaimed, clinging to him with all the passionate warmth of her nature, and forgetting all her terror in that one moment of uncontrolled feeling. Her simple words confirmed at once all that Mrs. Hamilton had said in her favour, and the now gratified father seated her, as he would a little child, on his knee, and with affectionate caresses gradually soothed her to composure. Long did they converse together, and from that moment Lilla's happiness commenced. She could not at once lose her dread of her father's sternness, but the slightest hint from him was enough; and frequently, as Grahame felt her affectionate manner, would he wonder he had been blind to her character so long. The idea of school lost its repugnance. Her father's kindness enabled her to keep her determination, to prove, by the indulgence of the highest spirits, that going to school, instead of being a punishment, as her aunt Augusta intended it to be, was a privilege and a pleasure. That she was accused of want of feeling she little heeded, now that her father invited and encouraged her affection. Lady Helen wondered at her change of manner, but indolence and the prejudice constantly instilled by Annie and Miss Malison, prevented all indulgence of more kindly feelings. As things remained in this state for some weeks in Mr. Grahame's establishment, we will now return to Mr. Hamilton's family.
It was about this time, some three or four weeks before the end of the Oxford term, that letters arrived from Percy and Herbert, containing matters of interesting information, and others which caused some anxiety in the breast of Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton. On the first subject both the brothers wrote, so deeply interested had they become in it. Among the servitors or free scholars of their college was a young man, whom they had frequently noticed the last year, but never recollected having seen before. He shrunk, as it appeared in sensitiveness from every eye, kept aloof from all companions, as if he felt himself above those who held the same rank in the University. Herbert's gentle and quickly sympathising heart had ever felt pained, when he first went to college, to see the broad distinction made between the servitors and other collegians. He felt it pain to see them, as, in their plain gowns and caps, they stood or sat apart from their brother students at their meals, but perceiving by degrees they were all happy in their rank, being, in general, sons of the poorer and less elevated classes of society, happy to obtain an excellent education free of expense, he had conquered these feelings, and imagined justly that they were, in all probability, indifferent to the distinction of rank. But one amongst them had recalled all these kindly sentiments, not only in the heart of Herbert but in that of Percy, who was in general too reckless to regard matters so minutely as his brother. The subject of their notice was a young man, perhaps some two or three years older than the heir of Oakwood, but with an expression of melancholy, which frequently amounted almost to anguish, ever stamped on his high and thoughtful brow, and his large, searching, dark grey eye. He was pale, but it appeared more from mental suffering than disease, and at times there was a proud even a haughty curl on his lip, that might have whispered he had seen better days. He was never observed to be familiar with his brother servitors, and shrunk with proud humility from the notice of his superiors. The servile offices exacted from those of his degree were performed with scrupulous exactness, but Herbert frequently beheld at such times a flush of suffering mount into his cheek, and when his task was done, he would fold his arms in his gown, and drop his head upon them, as if his spirit revolted in agony from its employment. The other servitors were fond of aping their superiors, by a studied affectation of similar dress and manner, but this young man was never once seen to alter his plain even coarse costume, and kept aloof from all appearance that would assimilate him with those above him; and yet he was their laughing-stock, the butt against which the pointed arrows of scorn, contumely, ridicule, and censure were ever hurled, with a malevolence that appeared strange to the benevolent hearts of the young Hamiltons, who vainly endeavoured to check the public torrent. "He was not always as he is now, and then, poor Welshman as he is, he always lorded it over us, and we will requite him now," was the only reply they obtained; but the first sentence touched a chord in Herbert's heart. Misfortune might have reduced him to the rank he now held, and perhaps he struggled vainly to teach his spirit submission; but how could he obtain his friendship, in what manner succeed in introducing himself. Herbert was naturally too reserved to make advances, however inclination prompted, and some months passed in inactivity, though the wish to know him, and by kindness remove his despondency, became more and more powerful to the brothers.
A side attack one day on the young Welshman, made with unwonted and bitter sarcasm by an effeminate and luxurious scion of nobility, roused the indignation of Percy. Retorting haughtily on the defensive, a regular war of tongues took place. The masterly eloquence of Percy carried the day, and he hoped young Myrvin was free from all further attacks. He was mistaken: another party, headed by the defeated but enraged Lord, who had been roused to a state of fury by young Hamilton's appearance, surrounded the unhappy young man in the college court, and preventing all egress, heaped every sarcastic insult upon him, words that could not fail to sting his haughty spirit to the quick. Myrvin's eye flashed with sudden and unwonted lustre, and ere Herbert, who with his brother had hastily joined the throng, could prevent it, he had raised his arm and felled his insulting opponent to the ground. A wild uproar ensued, the civil officers appeared, and young Myrvin was committed, under the charge of wilfully, and without provocation, attacking the person of the right honourable Marquis of —.
The indignation of Percy and Herbert was now at its height; and without hesitation the former sought the principal of his college, and in a few brief but emphatic sentences placed the whole affair before him in its true light, condemning with much feeling the cowardly and cruel conduct of the true aggressors, and so convinced the worthy man of the injustice done towards the person of young Myrvin, that he was instantly released, with every honour that could soothe his troubled feelings, and a severe reprimand bestowed on the real authors of the affray.