“Phil, if you have finished your lunch, you and Molly may run away and amuse yourselves,” said Lady Mary, feeling that here was an opportunity for moral influence. The two children withdrew rather unwillingly, for like all other children they were fond of personal discussions, and liked to hear the end of everything. Harry laughed as they went away.
“You want to keep Phil out of hearing of my bad example,” he said, “and you are going to persuade me to be good, Aunt Mary; I know all you’re going to say. Don’t you know I’ve had it all said to me a hundred times? Don’t bother yourself to go over the old ground. May I have the honour of attending your ladyship anywhere this afternoon, or won’t you have me, any more than Mr. Tottenham?”
“Oh, Harry, you’re a sad boy,” said Lady Mary, shaking her head. She had thought, perhaps, that she might have put his duty more clearly before him than any previous monitor had been able to do, for we all have confidence in our own special powers in this way; but she gave up judiciously when she saw how her overture was received. “I am going to the village,” she said, “to call upon those new people, Mr. Earnshaw’s cousins.”
“Oh, the beauty!” cried Harry with animation, “come along! Sly fellow to bring her here, where he’ll be always on the spot.”
“Ah, that was my first idea; but he knew nothing of it. To tell the truth,” said Lady Mary, “I wish it were so; I should be a good deal easier in my mind, and so would your mother if I could believe he was thinking seriously of anyone—in his own rank of life.”
“Why, I thought you were a democrat, and cared nothing for rank; I thought you were of the opinion that all men are equal, not to speak of women—”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Harry; an abstract belief, one way or other, has nothing to do with one’s family arrangements. I like Mr. Earnshaw very much; he is more than my equal, for he is an educated man, and knows much more than I do, which is my standard of position; but still, at the same time, I should not like him—in his present circumstances—to enter my family—”
“Though a few years ago we should all have been very glad of him,” said Harry. “Oh, I agree with you entirely, Aunt Mary. If Gussy is such a fool she must be stopped, that’s all. I’d have no hesitation in locking her up upon bread and water rather than stand any nonsense. I’d have done the same by Helena if I’d had my way.”
“How odd,” said Lady Mary, veering round instantly, and somewhat abashed to find herself thus supported, “and yet you are young, and might be supposed to have some sort of sympathy—”
“Not a bit,” cried Harry, “I don’t mind nonsense; but as soon as it gets serious I’m serious too. If this fellow, whom you call Earnshaw, has any notions of that kind I’ll show him the difference. Oh, yes, I like him; but you may like a fellow well enough, and not give him your sister. Besides, what made him such a fool as to give up everything? He might have fought it out.”