Mr Barker was silent, and looked thoughtful.
“Are we wrong, Sir?” asked Charles. “Have we got high-flown or mistaken notions about this? or is it presumptuous in us, who are so poor, and under great obligations, to affect a choice for our brother?”
“No, my dear boy; none of these. I was silent because I was thinking of a sad story, and wondering whether I should tell it you. Have you quite made up your minds to reject Mr Rathbone’s offer?”
“That depends on your opinion,” said Jane. “If you shew us that Charles’s ideas of the hazard and probable misery of such a destination, are mistaken, we must deliberate further: but if what I have heard be true, I would as soon see Alfred in his coffin as incur so fearful a responsibility.”
“I think what Charles has said is all true: but, my dears, you must prepare yourselves for something which will be to you very terrible.”
“Mr Rathbone’s displeasure,” said Charles. “I feared that: but grateful as we are and ought to be for his most disinterested generosity to us, we ought to look on his gifts as curses, if they take from us the liberty of unbiassed choice, where the moral welfare of a brother is in question.”
“Say so in your reply to him, Charles.”
“But it may be,” said Jane, “that he will not be displeased. We take for granted much too readily, I think, that he will misunderstand us.”
“Mr Rathbone’s temper is peculiar,” replied Mr Barker. “A somewhat haughty spirit was rendered imperious by the power and rank he possessed in India. Considering this, it is wonderful that he should retain so generous a disposition as his is; but every one knows, and Charles himself must have observed, that he cannot bear to be opposed, especially in any scheme of benevolence.”
Jane sighed. “At any rate,” said she, “he cannot prevent our being grateful for what he has done, and for his present kind intentions. It is hard to be obliged to estrange such a friend, but it would be harder still to devote Alfred to danger, and to temptations stronger than we dare encounter ourselves.”