Chapter Twenty.
More Changes.
For the next ten minutes conversation was of the most desultory character; then the sound of wheels was heard in the distance, and Rex became eager and excited once more.
“There’s my father! Go and meet him, Norah. Get hold of him before Hilary comes with her everlasting chatter. He wants to speak to you. Bring him along here, and I’ll go into the house!”
Norah sped off obediently, and met the Squire as the cart turned in at the gate. He pulled up at once, handed the reins to the man, and jumped down to join her. His ruddy face looked drawn and anxious, and the first glance at the girl showed that she was, like himself, in a woe-begone state of mind.
“Oh, you know all about it! That boy of mine has been talking to you, I can see!” he said, as they shook hands, and turned along the winding path. “Well, well, this is a fine ending to all my hopes. The lad’s as obstinate as a mule—I am sure I don’t know where he got his disposition; if he once takes a thing in his head there’s no moving him. Now he wants to go and bury himself in the wilds of India! I’ve talked until I am tired, and I can’t make him see what mad folly it is. After an expensive college education—”
“Yes, but, Squire, I don’t think that’s a fair argument! Rex didn’t want to go to college; he went against his own wishes because you were set on it. He said it would be waste of money.”
“Tut, tut! nonsense! Waste of money, indeed! I don’t grudge a few hundreds spent on my only son’s education, I hope. Things would have come to a pretty pass if that were the case,” cried the Squire, turning off at a tangent, as usual, the moment he found his position attacked by the enemy. “I thought the boy would have come to his senses long before the three years were over. I have told him—” And he launched off into a lengthy account of the interview of the night before, repeating his own arguments and his son’s replies, while Norah listened with downcast eyes. “There!” he cried in conclusion, “that is the matter in a nutshell, and everyone must see that I am perfectly reasonable and within my rights. Now, my dear, you talk to him; he thinks a great deal of your opinion. Just tell him plainly that if he persists in his folly, he is ruining his life, and behaving in a very wrong, undutiful manner to his mother and to me. Talk to him plainly; don’t spare your words!”
“I can’t do that, Squire. I’m sorry, but I don’t agree with you. Rex has given in to your wishes for three whole years, though, from his point of view, it was waste of time. He has worked hard and not grumbled, so that he has kept every word of his promise. Now he asks you to fulfil yours. I am sure you must feel sad and disappointed, but I don’t think you ought to be angry with Rex, or call him undutiful.”