"'We expect him home from school by the coach to-night.'
"'What does Sir Alexander mean to do for him?'
"'Send him to college, I believe. He is very fond of him.'
"'Humph!--and then to London to make a lawyer of him. Leave him to me, Dinah, I will make a solicitor of him in earnest. I have taught many a bold heart and reckless hand to solicit the charity of others.'
"'Devil doubt you!' rejoined the fiend with a hollow, cackling laugh. 'But you may find the boy one too many for you, with all your cunning. He'll not start at shadows, nor stumble over straws. I have tamed many a proud spirit in my day, but this boy defies my power. I fear and hate him, but I cannot crush him. But hush!--here he is.'
"I bustled forward and flung my portmanteau heavily to the ground. 'How are you, grandmother? How's Alice? All well, I hope?'
"'Gentleman! I beg his pardon. A fine evening, sir; but very hot and dusty travelling by the coach. I have not tasted anything since breakfast, grandmother; and I am tired and hungry.'
"'Yours is the hungry age,' said the lawyer, staring me full in the face, as if he was taking a proof impression for legal purposes. His cold, searching look brought the blood to my cheeks, and I returned the impertinent scrutiny with a glance of defiance.
"He rose; nodded meaningly to Dinah, bowed slightly to me, and left the cottage.
"'Brother! dear, darling brother! welcome, welcome a thousand times.'
"Oh, what a contrast to the dark, joyless countenance of Dinah North, was the cherub face of Alice--laughing in the irresistible glee of her young heart. I forgot my long, tiresome journey, dust, heat, and hunger, as I pulled her on my knee, and covered her rosy cheeks with kisses.
"'Sad news, Philip. Dear Madge is in London on a visit to her aunt; and there is a dull, cross boy staying at the Hall, with a very hard name--Theophilus Moncton--Margaret's cousin. But he is nothing like her, though he calls her his little wife. But Madge says that she will never have him, though his father is very rich.'
"'I am sure _you will_ hate him, Philip, for he calls us beggar's brats, and wonders that Sir Alexander suffers his daughter to play with us. I told him that he was very rude; and that he had better not affront you, for you would soon teach him better manners. But he only sneered at me, and said, "My father's a _gentleman_. He never suffers me to associate with people _beneath_ us. Your brother had better keep out of my way, or I will order my groom to horsewhip him." I felt very angry and began to cry, and Sir Alexander came in and reproved the boy, and told me I had better return to grandmamma until Mr. Moncton and his son had left the Hall.'