Heriot's Choice: A Tale

by Rosa Nouchette Carey

'He seemed relieved at my proposing it, thanked me, and jumped at the idea, begged that he might go after Christmas; he was wasting his time here, looked pleased and dubious when I proposed his reading for the bar, and then his face fell—I suppose at the thought of my disappointment, for he coloured and said hurriedly that there was no need of immediate decision; he must make up his mind finally whether he should ever take holy orders. At present it was more than probable that——'

'"Say at once it is impossible," I interrupted, for the thought of such sacrilege made me angry. "No, father, do not say that," he returned, and I fancied he was touched for the moment. "Don't make up your mind that we are both to disappoint you. I only want to be perfectly sure that I am no hypocrite—that at any rate I am true in what I do. I think she would like that best, father," and then I knew he meant his mother.'

'Dear Arnold, I am not sure after all that you need be unhappy about your boy.'

'I do not distrust his rectitude of purpose; I only grieve over his pride and inflexibility—they are not good bosom-companions to a young man. Well, wherever he goes he is sure of his father's prayers, though it is hard to know that one's son is a stranger. Ah, there comes Heriot, Milly. I suppose he thinks we all want cheering up, as it is not his usual night.'

Mildred had already guessed such was the case, and was very grateful for the stream of ready talk that, at supper-time, carried Polly and Chriss with it. Roy had recovered his spirits, but he seemed to consider it a duty to preserve a subdued and injured exterior in his father's presence; it showed remorse for past idleness, and was a delicate compliment to the absent Livy; while Richard sat by in grave taciturnity, now and then breaking out into short sentences when silence was impossible, but all the time keenly cognisant of his father's every look and movement, and observant of his every want.

Dr. Heriot followed Mildred out of the room with a half-laughing inquiry how she had fared during the family gale.

'It is no laughing matter, I assure you; we are all as uncomfortable as possible.'

'When Greek meets Greek, you know the rest. You have no idea how dogmatical and disagreeable Mr. Lambert can make himself at times.'

This was a new idea to Mildred, and was met with unusual indignation.

'Parents have a notion they can enforce confidence—that the very relationship instils it. Here is the vicar groaning over his son's unfilial reticence and breaking his heart over a fit of very youthful stubbornness which calls itself manly pride, and Richard all the while yearning after his father, but bitter at being treated and schooled like a child. I declare I take Richard's part in this.'