When indeed?
Perhaps never, Eugene Trevor; for there are minds, in which—like the fruits and flowers of foreign climes, matured by the sunshine of an hour—passions, tastes, principles, incompatible with youth and purity and openness of heart, have either, by nature or the foreign sun of circumstances, struck their roots and flourished in the very morning of their possessors' lives, and thus, their very youth has been like age.
Once Arthur Seaham rode over to Montrevor with Eugene Trevor. He came back in high spirits, pleased with the place, and amused with the expedition altogether.
"You will have a fine old home, Mary," he said, "some of these days, for Trevor tells me everything will be altered, whenever the house is his, and that during his father's lifetime, he does not suppose you and he will be a great deal there, but live in London, and other places, which perhaps is as well, considering it might be rather a gloomy home for a permanence if matters continued as they now are; what with the dear old close father, and that fine-lady housekeeper, from whom I received a very cynical glance, as I stumbled upon her in the passage, and who holds, it seems, such a tight hand over her master and his establishment. But I don't object to the old gentleman himself, either. No! he is a rare old Solomon, and was very civil and flattering to me, with reference to his approval of his son's choice of such a modest, discreet, well-behaved young lady, for my sister. He even was so kind as to make amends for a very indifferent luncheon—(Trevor was obliged to give me on the sly) by presenting me at parting with an excellent piece of advice. His son had begun enlightening him as to my intention of entering upon the profession of the law, for the purpose of making money, which I saw at once raised me immeasurably in his estimation, and leading me aside when we were about to start, with so mysterious and important an expression, that I began to imagine that the jolly old fellow was going to present me with five hundred pounds on the spot, he whispered anxiously in my ears, as if my very life depended on what he was about to say:
"'That's right, young Sir, that's right—make money—make it as long and as much as you can. Make money—make money—and then,' with a very expressive and emphatic pause, 'and then—keep it.'"
Mary could not help laughing at her brother's ludicrous description, though she told him he was an impertinent boy, thus to deride the foibles of her venerable father-in-law. As to anything in his character—or even aught with reference to Marryott, as at all affecting her happiness at Montrevor—seemed to cast no shade of anxiety over her mind. On this point she was as uncareful and unforeseeing as became those traits in her general character we have before remarked.
"By the bye," exclaimed her brother, either à-propos to reflections to which his late visits at Montrevor had given rise, or with reference to hints Mr. de Burgh had once or twice let fall upon the subject, "by the bye, I want to ask you what has become of Trevor's unfortunate brother?"
Mary was unable to give the required information.
"The fact is," she said, "the idea is one so very painful, even to me, that I never bring a subject forward which must undoubtedly be one doubly distasteful and distressing to Eugene. He never broaches it himself—I will, however, ask him the question whenever I may have the opportunity. It might be a comfort to him if I once broke the ice and conversed with him sometimes on the subject."
It was therefore in consequence of this kindly intentioned resolve, that one day when walking alone with Eugene through the park home from church, he—talking in a more confidential tone than was his usual wont, on matters connected with his family affairs, and affecting their future prospects—she placed her hand on his, and with the gentlest, tenderest sympathy in her tone and manner, murmured, "And where, Eugene, is your poor brother?" But she repented ere the words had passed her lips; for Eugene perceptibly started, and paused abruptly for a single moment, turning a wild, quick glance upon her, whilst though he answered but by the single word "Abroad!" it was enough to show that his voice was thick and husky as he thus replied. In a moment, however, he seemed to recover himself from the very great shock her abrupt, and as she feared, ill-judged question had occasioned him, and passing his hand across his brow, quickly pursued his way.