Mr. Morrison had said to him, “You are rich, my boy. You are owner of Millbank, but do not let your wealth become a snare. Do good with your money, and remember that a tenth, at least, belongs by right to the Lord.”
And amidst the keen pain which he felt at his father’s death, Roger had thought how much good he would do, and how he would imitate his noble friend and teacher, Mr. Morrison, who, from his scanty income, cheerfully gave more than a tenth, and still never lacked for food or raiment. That Baby was sent direct from Heaven to test his principles, he made himself believe; and by the time the mountains of Massachusetts were reached he began to feel quite composed, except on the subject of Hester. She did trouble him a little, and he wished the first meeting with her was over. With careful forethought he telegraphed for her to meet him, and then when he saw her he held the child to her at once, and hastily told her a part of his story, and felt his heart grow heavy as lead, when he saw how she shrank from the little one as if there had been pollution in its touch.
“I reckon Mrs. Walter Scott will ride a high hoss when she knows what you done,” Hester said, when at last they were in the carriage and driving toward home.
At the mention of Mrs. Walter Scott, Roger grew uneasy. He had a dread of his stylish sister-in-law, with her lofty manner and air of superiority, and he shrank nervously from what she might say.
“O Hester!” he exclaimed. “Is Helen at Millbank; and will she put on her biggest ways?”
“You needn’t be afraid of Helen Brown. ’Tain’t none of her business if you bring a hundred young ones to Millbank,” Hester said, and as she said it she came very near going over to the enemy, and espousing the cause of the poor little waif in her arms, out of sheer defiance to Mrs. Walter Scott, who was sure to snub the stranger, as she had snubbed Roger before her.
Matters were in this state when the carriage finally stopped at Millbank, and Hester insisted upon taking the child through the kitchen door, as the way most befitting for it. But Roger said no; and so it was up the broad stone steps, and across the wide piazza, and into the handsome hall, that Baby was carried upon her first entrance to Millbank.
CHAPTER III.
WHAT THEY DID AT MILLBANK.
“Oh! Roger, this is a sorry coming home,” Mrs. Walter Scott had said when Roger first appeared in view; and taking a step forward, she kissed him quite affectionately, and even ran her white fingers through his moist hair in a pitying kind of way.