Louis School Days | Page 3

the door of this house, one fine April day, Louis presented himself; and, after descending from the vehicle which brought him from Bristol, followed the servant into the doctor's dining-room, where we will leave him in solitary grandeur, or, more correctly speaking, in agitating expectation, while we take a peep at the room on the opposite side of the hall. In this, Dr. Wilkinson was giving audience to a gentleman who had brought back his little boy a few minutes before Louis arrived. Having some private business to transact, the child was sent to the school-room, and then Mr. Percy entered into a discussion respecting the capabilities of his son, and many other particulars, which, however interesting to himself, would fail of being so to us.
At length these topics were exhausted, and it seemed nearly decided how much was to be done or discontinued in Master Percy's education. Mr. Percy paused to consider if any thing were left unsaid.
"Oh! by the by, Dr. Wilkinson," he said, letting fall the pencil with which he had been tapping the table during his cogitations, "you have one of Sir George Vernon's grandsons with you, I believe?"
"Two of them," replied the doctor.
"Ah! indeed, I mean young Mortimer, son of Mr. Mortimer of Dashwood."
"I have his eldest son, and am expecting another to-day."
"Then it was your expected pupil that I saw this morning," said Mr. Percy.
"May I ask where?" said the doctor.
"At the White Lion. He came down by the London coach. I saw his trunk, in the first place, addressed to you, and supposed him to be the young gentleman who attained to some rather undesirable notoriety last year."
"How so?" asked the doctor.
"Oh! he very ungenerously and artfully endeavored to retain for himself the honor of writing a clever little essay, really the work of his brother, and actually obtained a prize from his grandfather for it."
"How came that about?" asked Dr. Wilkinson.
"Oh! there was some mistake in the first instance, I believe, and the mean little fellow took advantage of it."
Mr. Percy then gave a detailed account of Louis' birthday at Heronhurst, and concluded by saying--
"I was not present, but I heard it from a spectator; I should be afraid that you will not have a little trouble with such a character."
"It is extraordinary," said the doctor; "his brother is the most frank, candid fellow possible."
"I hear he is a nice boy," said Mr. Percy. "There is frequently great dissimilarity among members of the same family; but of course, this goes no further. It is as well you should know it,--but I should not talk of it to every one."
Dr. Wilkinson bowed slightly, and remained silent, without exhibiting any peculiar gratification at having been made the depository of the secret. Mr. Percy presently rose and took his leave; and Dr. Wilkinson was turning towards the staircase, when a servant informed him that a young gentleman waited to see him in the dining-room.
"Oh!" said the doctor to himself, "my dilatory pupil, I presume."
He seemed lost in thought for a minute, and then slowly crossing the hall, entered the dining-room.
Louis had been very anxious for the appearance of his master, yet almost afraid to see him; and when the door opened, and this gentleman stood before him, he was seized with such a palpitation as scarcely to have the power of speech.
Dr. Wilkinson was certainly a person calculated to inspire a school-boy with awe. He was a tall, dignified man, between fifty and sixty years of age, with a magnificent forehead and good countenance: the latter was not, however, generally pleasing, the usual expression being stern and unyielding. When he smiled, that expression vanished; but to a new-comer there was something rather terrible in the compressed lips and overhanging eyebrows, from under which a pair of the keenest black eyes seemed to look him through.
Louis rose and bowed on his master's entrance.
"How do you do, Mortimer?" said the doctor, shaking hands with him. "I dare say you are tired of waiting. You have not seen your brother, I suppose?"
"No, sir," replied Louis, looking in the stern face with something of his customary simple confidence. Doctor Wilkinson smiled, and added, "You are very like your father,--exceedingly like what he was at your age."
"Did you know him then, sir?" asked Louis, timidly.
"Yes, as well as I hope to know you in a short time. What is your name?"
"Louis Francis, sir."
"What! your father's name--that is just what it should be. Well, I hope, Louis, you will now endeavor to give him the utmost satisfaction. With such a father, and such a home, you have great privileges to account for; and it is your place to show to your parents of what use their care and instruction have been. In a large school you will find many things so