He conducted his aunt to a little room where she wrote her letters and transacted her business generally. He had often seen her write, and had been astonished at the ease and accuracy with which she did it--writing on a curious board, with slips of metal, having notches in them, stretched across it; with the aid of this she carried on quite a large correspondence in a clear, neat hand. So used had she become to it that she quite easily fitted in a cheque, seeming to take rapid measurements on it with her fingers, filled it up, signed it, and handed it to him.
"There," she said, "that's for fifty pounds. As I've told you, I don't want you to be reckless, but you can have more when you want it. You know where the bank is, and you can drive there whenever you like and cash it. There's only one thing I want you clearly to understand: I want you to be a man and to learn your way about; and I want you to keep a clear and open face to the world and to me. Do that always, and we sha'n't quarrel."
He commenced a halting form of thanks, but she checked him and waved him away, explaining that she had business to attend to, and smilingly adding that she couldn't be bothered with him. But the business proved to be of short duration. The proud old woman soon came bustling up to the boy's sitting room in search of him, and suggested a drive. The carriage was ordered, and they selected as their route, at Miss Carlaw's command, the most public and fashionable ways.
"We shall be away from London for a long time," said Miss Carlaw soon after they had started, "and London won't have a chance of seeing my boy. So we'll give 'em a chance now; we'll let 'em see that the Prince Charming they knew has grown a man indeed. Do they look at you? Do they stare? Lord! it's at this time I want my eyes most; I never felt the want of 'em until you came. But I mustn't grumble; I shall have a judgment on me if I grumble after all my blessings."
Jealousy and envy racked her foolish old heart as much as they had ever done. Amid all her joy at his return, she fell very often into a despondent mood; strove, in a strange, pitiful fashion that was almost grotesque, to make herself pleasing to the boy; was anxious to be seen about with him, and yet fearful lest she should weary him, or he should long for some other companion. The joy that his presence meant to her was sometimes more than swallowed up by her jealous fears concerning him. Had she but known, no such fear need ever have troubled her life, for Comethup had a genuine and deep affection for her, born of his gratitude for her many generosities, and, in greater measure, of his respect for her strength and force of character. But it was, of course, impossible for him adequately to express that, and so her fears never really left her.