And next came a quick, resolute tread that made the little fellow shiver with apprehension, never guessing at his brother's self-debate whether obstinate impenitence ought not to bring the rod, and wondering recollection of his own displeasure when Mr. Audley recommended its disuse in the fatherless household. Felix held by the spirit rather than the letter, and had decided that unless he found submission, signal punishment must ensue.

It was an immense relief to him to detect by eye and ear that the child had been crying, and to be able to say that seeing that he was sorry made it possible to attend to Lance's kind entreaty not to be hard upon him. Absolute words of penitence Felix did not try to exact; but after a few words of sympathy, which Bernard had by no means expected, on the hardship of the second-hand wardrobe, and a reminder of the necessity, he proceeded to rebuke for the passionate behaviour, and above all for the language Bernard had used; expressing to the full how much it had shocked and appalled him, by showing what sort of associates the boy must have chosen since he had learnt such words at all, and what a shame and disgrace he felt it that one of the brothers should ever have uttered them. And Bernard—who had learnt that Satanic primer with a certain shame and repugnance, under the strong desire to show himself neither girl, muff, nor choir-boy, and certainly would never in his right senses have betrayed his proficiency at home—was a good deal impressed, and finally began to cry again, and to promise to cure himself.

Believed to have thus fulfilled the least pleasing of all his duties, Felix went down to his long-delayed evening meal, and therewith to a family council. Lance was gone to bed, and his proposal was the more freely discussed, as well as his relations with Bernard.

'That boy must go at once to Stoneborough,' said Felix. 'I shall write to Dr. Cheviot to-night.'

Wilmet sighed. 'I suppose I ought not to have objected,' she said; 'but I did think Lance would have kept him in order.'

'He has tried,' said Felix.

'O Felix!' cried Cherry, turning to him with tears in her eyes, 'I am afraid I was unjust to Lance just now, and I am so sorry! Do you know, the naughty little fellow had been keeping a dog and got into debt; and Lance paid all—I can't think how!'

'That I believe I can tell,' said John Harewood, 'though I am afraid it is a breach of confidence. He sold his violin.'

'That violin that I was so angry with him for buying!' said Wilmet. 'Well, he is a dear little fellow!'

'And I scolded him for being unkind!' cried Cherry, in despair. 'Oh, is he asleep? I should like to beg his pardon,' and her hand clasped Lord Gerald.

'About the worst thing you could do to the poor boy, Cherry,' said Felix, 'when he is only lying there trying to get his head quiet enough to let him sleep.'

'Nor must you betray me,' added John, smiling at poor conscience-stricken Cherry.

'And it is a mercy the fiddle is gone!' said Alda. 'I used to hear him playing it somewhere among the out-houses in the spring, and it was enough to distract one, added to Theodore's dronings.'

'It must have been like parting with a bit of his life,' sighed Cherry; 'and yet Bernard would not mind him, and they did quarrel!'

'Boys who deal well with juniors at school do sometimes fail with little brothers,' said John. 'Besides, I observe that where there is pride there is always a distaste and dread of those who have much power of ridicule.'

'I suspect, too,' said Felix, 'that Lance has made the turn in life when one gets superfluously earnest, and nothing so upsets influence. I have felt it myself.'

'So all this trouble and vexation has been weighing on the dear little fellow,' said Wilmet. 'No wonder he is not half so well as when he came home!'

'No,' said Felix; 'I wonder whether the Froggatts would let him come to them for a week or two, or whether it would be too dull to be good for him.'

'If his mind were settled about the future, it would be rest rather than dullness,' said John; 'but I think a good deal of his trouble is caused by Manby's verdict, and for that perhaps the best cure would be letting him have his wish.'

'You, John!' exclaimed Felix; 'I thought you would have put that out of his head!'

'On the contrary, he made me think there was a good deal in his arguments. First, as regards you, would he be of any real use?'

'Never mind that,' said Felix. 'I heard something to-day that would make it practicable; but I can't have that boy wasted.'

'The point is, what is waste? Now his strongest aptitude never was for classical work; and if he is not to touch a Latin book till Christmas, and then only cautiously, I do not see what chance he would have, even if Will were out of the way.'

'And if not at Minsterham, so much the less anywhere else,' said Wilmet. 'Besides, it might be a dreadful risk if his head were to be overstrained.'

'And in the meantime, the being kept here doing nothing, and vexing himself, is wearing his spirits, and hurting him more than any light occupation, especially what he felt to be a labour of love.'

'That is quite true again,' said Felix. 'I quite believe he would be much happier if he began working with me to-morrow; but it might be letting a mere fit of impatience and despondency fix him for life in an uncongenial business.'

'I thought you preferred it!' exclaimed Wilmet.

'Oh yes,' said Felix, with a sort of half contempt in his tone; 'but these boys of ours are a different sort of stuff, and we have seen that it will never answer to pin them down to plod.'

'Lance would never be like Edgar!' exclaimed Wilmet; 'as if Edgar ever thought of doing anything so unselfish in his life!'

'O Wilmet! indeed he thought!' cried Cherry.

'Yes, but always of five or six years hence!' said Wilmet.

'Lance is very like Edgar,' said Felix. 'He has what I believe belongs to the artist temperament; and that he is the bravest, the most uncomplaining little fellow I ever came across, and probably would never break off what he had begun, makes me the more anxious not to let this access of generosity—ay, and tedium—lead to taking any decided step while he is so young.'

'When you come to artist temperament, I don't understand,' said Wilmet. 'Lance doesn't even draw anything like Cherry or Edgar—much good does that do! and as to his music, it would not be much of a living.'

'I believe he thinks that the alternative,' said John.

'For goodness' sake!' cried Alda, 'he doesn't want to get taken on in London! To have him singing and fiddling in public would be worse than anything. You put that out of his head, I hope, John. Even if he changed his name—'

'It never was in his head,' said John. 'He never thought of anything but his old line—Cathedral music: and the sacrifice to him is of that, not of the chance of the University.'

'That's not so bad,' said Alda, 'because it is a great chance whether any one ever heard of it.'

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