“Yes, to London; and from London perhaps to Paris, there to remain for some time,” said William, spiritedly.
“Charming excursion,” exclaimed the young lady.
“Why London is not particularly lively at this moment, and I hope to be pretty hard worked in Paris. There’s nothing very charming about it, but I’m glad to go;” and thinking this a little strong, he added, “because it is time I should begin, if ever I am to do any good for myself or anyone else.”
“He’s like the good boy in a story-book, he makes such wise reflections; and I’m certain he’ll grow rich and prosper,” said Miss Vi to Aunt Dinah. “My only wise saw is ‘Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.’ I learned it from Winnie, and I’m going to act on it now. Good-night, dear old grannie,” and she kissed her in a fond little embrace. “All this wise talk makes one sleepy, I think; and I’ve been walking about with Miss Wagget all day. Good-night.” This was to William, with a smile.
“Good-night,” he answered quietly, and a little bitterly, as without smiling he took her hand. Then he lighted her candle, and gave it to her, and stood at the door while she ran up the broad stair, humming an air.
He came back, looking sulky, and sat down with his hands in his pocket, looking at the fire-irons that rested on the fender.
“How do you think she’s looking?” asked Aunt Dinah.
“Very well; much as usual,” said William, with a dreary carelessness.
“I think she’s looking particularly beautiful,” said Miss Perfect.
“Perhaps so—very likely; but I’ve plenty of work before me, thank God, the sort of work I like; and I’m in no admiring mood, like Trevor and other fellows who have nothing better to do. I like work. ‘Man delights not me, nor woman neither.’ And, dear Aunt, I’m a little bit sleepy, too; but I’ll see you early, shan’t I?”