I’llbeasdeepashim，andtakenomorenoticeoftheaffairtillhecomeshomeandtellsmehimself。’SoalthoughthesquirewasalwaysdelightedtoreceivethelittlenoteswhichCynthiasenttohimeverytimesheheardfromRoger，andalthoughthisattentiononherpartwasmeltingthehearthetriedtoharden，hecontrolledhimselfintowritingherthebriefestacknowledgements。Hiswordswerestronginmeaning，butformalinexpression；sheherselfdidnotthinkmuchaboutthem，beingsatisfiedtodothekindactionsthatcalledthemforth。Buthermothercriticizedthemandponderedthem。Shethoughtshehadhitonthetruthwhenshehaddecidedinherownmindthatitwasaveryold—fashionedstyle，andthatheandhishouseandhisfurnitureallwantedsomeofthebrighteningupandpolishingwhichtheyweresuretoreceive，when——sheneverquitelikedtofinishthesentencedefinitely，althoughshekeptrepeatingtoherselfthat’therewasnoharminit。’Toreturntothesquire。Occupiedashenowwas，herecoveredhisformerhealth，andsomethingofhisformercheerfulness。IfOsbornehadmethimhalf—way，itisprobablethattheoldbondbetweenfatherandsonmighthavebeenrenewed；butOsborneeitherwasreallyaninvalid，orhadsunkintoinvalidhabits，andmadenoefforttorally。Ifhisfatherurgedhimtogoout—nay，onceortwicehegulpeddownhispride，andaskedOsbornetoaccompanyhim—Osbornewouldgotothewindowandfindoutsomeflaworspeckinthewindorweather，andmakethatanexcuseforstoppinginthehouseoverhisbooks。Hewouldsaunteroutonthesunnysideofthehouseinamannerthatthesquireconsideredasbothindolentandunmanly。
Yetiftherewasaprospectofhisleavinghome，whichhedidprettyoftenaboutthistime，hewasseizedwithahecticenergy：thecloudsinthesky，theeasterlywind，thedampnessoftheair，werenothingtohimthen；
andasthesquiredidnotknowtherealsecretcauseofthisanxietytobegone，hetookitintohisheadthatitarosefromOsborne’sdisliketoHamleyandtothemonotonyofhisfather’ssociety。’Itwasamistake，’thoughtthesquire。’Iseeitnow。Iwasnevergreatatmakingfriendsmyself。IalwaysthoughtthoseOxfordandCambridgementurneduptheirnosesatmeforacountrybooby，andI’dgetthestartandhavenoneo’them。ButwhentheboyswenttoRugbyandCambridge，I
shouldha’letthemhavehadtheirownfriendsabout’em，eventhoughtheymightha’lookeddownonme；itwastheworsttheycouldha’donetome，andnowwhatfewfriendsIhadhavefallenofffromme，bydeathorsomehow，anditisbutdrearyworkforayoungman，Igrantit。Buthemighttrynottoshowitsoplaintomeashedoes。I’mgettingcase—hardened，butitdoescutmetothequicksometimes—itdoes。Andhesofondofhisdadashewasonce！IfIcanbutgetthelanddrainedI’llmakehimanallowance，andlethimgotoLondon，orwherehelikes。Maybehe’lldobetterthistime，ormaybehe’llgotothedogsaltogether；butperhapsitwillmakehimthinkabitkindlyoftheoldfatherathome—Ishouldlikehimtodothat，Ishould！’ItispossiblethatOsbornemighthavebeeninducedtotellhisfatherofhismarriageduringtheirlongtê；te—à；—tê；teintercourse，ifthesquire，inanunluckymoment，hadnotgivenhimhisconfidenceaboutRoger’sengagementwithCynthia。ItwasononewetSundayafternoon，whenthefatherandsonweresittingtogetherinthelargeemptydrawing—room。Osbornehadnotbeentochurchinthemorning；thesquirehad，andhewasnowtryinghardtoreadoneofBlair’ssermons。Theyhaddinedearly；theyalwaysdidonSundays；andeitherthat，orthesermon，orthehopelesswetnessoftheday，madetheafternoonseeminterminablylongtothesquire。HehadcertainunwrittenrulesfortheregulationofhisconductonSundays。Coldmeat，sermon—reading，nosmokingtillaftereveningprayers，aslittlethoughtaspossibleastothestateofthelandandtheconditionofthecrops，andasmuchrespectablesitting—indoorsinhisbestclothesaswasconsistentwithgoingtochurchtwiceaday，andsayingtheresponseslouderthantheclerk。To—dayithadrainedsounceasinglythathehadremittedtheafternoonchurch；butoh，evenwiththeluxuryofanap，howlongitseemedbeforehesawtheHallservantstrudginghomewards，alongthefield—path，acoveyofumbrellas！Hehadbeenstandingatthewindowforthelasthalf—hour，hishandsinhispockets，andhismouthoftencontractingitselfintothetraditionalsinofawhistle，butasoftencheckedintosuddengravity—ending，ninetimesoutoften，inayawn。HelookedaskanceatOsborne，whowassittingnearthefireabsorbedinabook。Thepoorsquirewassomethinglikethelittleboyinthechild’sstory，whoasksallsortsofbirdsandbeaststocomeandplaywithhim；and，ineverycase，receivesthesoberanswer，thattheyaretoobusytohaveleisurefortrivialamusements。Thefatherwantedthesontoputdownhisbook，andtalktohim：itwassowet，sodull，andalittleconversationwouldsowileawaythetime！ButOsborne，withhisbacktothewindowwherehisfatherwasstanding，sawnothingofallthis，andwentonreading。Hehadassentedtohisfather’sremarkthatitwasaverywetafternoon，buthadnotcarriedonthesubjectintoallthevarietiesoftruismsofwhichitwassusceptible。Somethingmorerousingmustbestarted，andthisthesquirefelt。TherecollectionoftheaffairbetweenRogerandCynthiacameintohishead，and，withoutgivingitamoment’sconsideration，hebegan，—’Osborne！Doyouknowanythingaboutthis—thisattachmentofRoger’s？’Quitesuccessful。Osbornelaiddownhisbookinamoment，andturnedroundtohisfather。’Roger！anattachment！No！Ineverheardofit—Icanhardlybelieveit—thatistosay，Isupposeitisto——’Andthenhestopped；forhethoughthehadnorighttobetrayhisownconjecturethattheobjectwasCynthiaKirkpatrick。’Yes。Heisthough。Canyouguesswhoto？NobodythatIparticularlylike—notaconnectiontomymind—yetshe’saveryprettygirl；andIsupposeIwastoblameinthefirstinstance。’’Isit——’’It’snousebeatingaboutthebush。I’vegonesofar，Imayaswelltellyouall。It’sMissKirkpatrick，Gibson’sstepdaughter。Butit’snotanengagement，mindyou——’’I’mveryglad—IhopeshelikesRogerbackagain——’’Like—it’sonlytoogoodaconnectionforhernottolikeit：ifRogerisofthesamemindwhenhecomeshome，I’llbeboundshe’llbeonlytoohappy！’’IwonderRogernevertoldme，’saidOsborne，alittlehurt，nowhebegantoconsiderhimself。’Henevertoldmeeither，’saidthesquire。’ItwasGibson，whocamehere，andmadeacleanbreastofitlikeamanofhonour。I’dbeensayingtohim，Icouldnothaveeitherofyoutwoladstakingupwithhislasses。
I’llownitwasyouIwasafraidof—it’sbadenoughwithRoger，andmaybewillcometonothingafterall；butifithadbeenyou，I’dha’brokenwithGibsonandeverymother’ssonof’em，soonerthanhaveletitgoon；