It was a manly, feeling, sensible letter, explaining to the old father in very simple language the services which were demanded by the terms of the will to which he and two or three others were trustees; the liberal allowance for expenses, the still more liberal reward for performance, which had tempted several men of considerable renown to offer themselves as candidates for the appointment. Lord Hollingford then went on to say that, having seen a good deal of Roger lately, since the publication of his article in reply to the French osteologist, he had had reason to think that in him the trustees would find united the various qualities required in a greater measure than in any of the applicants who had at that time presented themselves. Roger had deep interest in the subject, much acquired knowledge, and at the same time, great natural powers of comparison and classification of facts; he had shown himself to be an observer of a fine and accurate kind, he was of the right age, in the very prime of health and strength, and unshackled by any family ties. Here Mr. Gibson paused for consideration. He hardly cared to ascertain by what steps the result had been arrived at—he already knew what that result was; but his mind was again arrested as his eye caught on the remuneration offered, which was indeed most liberal; and then he read with attention the high praise bestowed on the son in this letter to the father. The squire had been watching Mr. Gibson—waiting till he came to this part—and he rubbed his hands together as he said,—
‘Aye! you’ve come to it at last. It’s the best part of the whole, isn’t it? God bless the boy! and from a Whig, mind you, which makes it the more handsome. And there’s more to come still. I say, Gibson, I think my luck is turning at last,’ passing him on yet another letter to read. ‘That only came this morning; but I’ve acted on it already, I sent for the foreman of the drainage works at once, I did; and to-morrow, please God, they’ll be at work again.’
Mr. Gibson read the second letter, from Roger. To a certain degree it was a modest repetition of what Lord Hollingford had said, with an explanation of how he had come to take so decided a step in life without consulting his father. He did not wish him to be in suspense, for one reason. Another was that he felt, as no one else could feel for him, that by accepting this offer, he entered upon the kind of life for which he knew himself to be most fitted. And then he merged the whole into business. He said that he knew well the suffering his father had gone through when he had to give up his drainage works for want of money; that he, Roger, had been enabled at once to raise money upon the remuneration he was to receive on the accomplishment of his two years’ work; and that he had insured his life at once, in order to provide for the repayment of the money he had raised, in case he did not live to return to England. He said that the sum he had borrowed on this security would at once be forwarded to his father.
Mr. Gibson laid down the letter without speaking a word for some time; then he said,—
‘He’ll have to pay a pretty sum for insuring his life beyond seas.’
‘He has got his fellowship money,’ said the squire, a little depressed at Mr. Gibson’s remark.
‘Yes; that’s true. And he’s a strong young fellow, as I know.’
‘I wish I could tell his mother,’ said the squire in an undertone.
‘It seems all settled now,’ said Mr. Gibson, more in reply to his own thoughts than to the squire’s remark.
‘Yes!’ said the squire; ‘and they’re not going to let the grass grow under his feet. He’s to be off as soon as he can get his scientific traps ready. I almost wish he wasn’t to go. You don’t seem quite to like it, doctor?’
‘Yes, I do,’ said Mr. Gibson in a more cheerful tone than before. ‘It can’t be helped now without doing a mischief,’ thought he to himself. ‘Why, squire, I think it a great honour to have such a son. I envy you, that’s what I do. Here’s a lad of three- or four-and-twenty distinguishing himself in more ways than one, and as simple and affectionate at home as any fellow need to be—not a bit set up.’
‘Aye, aye; he’s twice as much a son to me as Osborne, who has been all his life set up on nothing at all, as one may say.’
‘Come, squire, I must not hear anything against Osborne; we may praise one, without hitting at the other. Osborne has not had the strong health which has enabled Roger to work as he has done. I met a man who knew his tutor at Trinity the other day, and of course we began cracking about Roger—it’s not every day that one can reckon a senior wrangler among one’s friends, and I’m nearly as proud of the lad as you are. This Mr. Mason told me the tutor said that only half of Roger’s success was owing to his mental powers; the other half was owing to his perfect health, which enabled him to work harder and more continuously than most men without suffering. He said that in all his experience he had never known any one with an equal capacity for mental labour;1 and that he could come again with fresh appetite to his studies after shorter intervals of rest than most. Now I, being a doctor, trace a good deal of his superiority to the material cause of a thoroughly good constitution, which Osborne has not got.’
‘Osborne might have if he got out o’ doors more,’ said the squire, moodily; ‘but except when he can loaf into Hollingford he doesn’t care to go out at all. I hope,’ he continued, with a glance of sudden suspicion at Mr. Gibson, ‘he’s not after one of your girls? I don’t mean any offence, you know; but he’ll have the estate, and it won’t be free, and he must marry money. I don’t think I could allow it in Roger; but Osborne’s the eldest son, you know.’
Mr. Gibson reddened; he was offended for a moment. Then the partial truth of what the squire said was presented to his mind, and he remembered their old friendship, so he spoke quietly, if shortly.
‘I don’t believe there’s anything of the kind going on. I’m not much at home, you know; but I’ve never heard or seen anything that should make me suppose that there is. When I do, I’ll let you know.’
‘Now, Gibson, don’t go and be offended. I’m glad for the boys to have a pleasant house to go to, and I thank you and Mrs. Gibson for making it pleasant. Only keep off love; it can come to no good. That’s all. I don’t believe Osborne will ever earn a farthing to keep a wife during my life, and if I were to die to-morrow, she would have to bring some money to clear the estate. And if I do speak as I shouldn’t have done formerly—a little sharp or so—why, it’s because I’ve been worried by many a care no one knows anything of.’
‘I’m not going to take offence,’ said Mr. Gibson, ‘but let us understand each other dearly. If you don’t want your sons to come as much to my house as they do, tell them so yourself I like the lads, and am glad to see them; but if they do come, you must take the consequences, whatever they are, and not blame me, or them either, for what may happen from the frequent intercourse between two young men and two young women; and what is more, though, as I said, I see nothing whatever of the kind you fear at present, and have promised to tell you of the first symptoms I do see, yet farther than that I won’t go. If there is an attachment at any future time, I won’t interfere.’
‘I shouldn’t so much mind if Roger fell in love with your Molly. He can fight for himself, you see, and she’s an uncommon nice girl. My poor wife was so fond of her,’ answered the squire. ‘It’s Osborne and the estate I’m thinking of!’
‘Well, then, tell him not to come near us. I shall be sorry, but you will be safe.’
‘I’ll think about it; but he’s difficult to manage. I’ve always to get my blood well up before I can speak my mind to him.’
Mr. Gibson was leaving the room, but at these words he turned and laid his hand on the squire’s arm.
‘Take my advice, squire. As I said, there is no harm done as yet, as far as I know. Prevention is better than cure. Speak out, but speak gently to Osborne, and do it at once. I shall understand how it is if he doesn’t show his face for some months in my house. If you speak gently to him, he’ll take the advice as from a friend. If he can assure you there’s no danger, of course he’ll come just as usual, when he likes.’