The Heir of Redclyffe | Page 9

coming down-stairs. It had an air of great snugness, with its large folding-screen, covered with prints and caricatures of ancient date, its book-shelves, its tables, its peculiarly easy arm-chairs, the great invalid sofa, and the grate, which always lighted up better than any other in the house.
In the bright glow of the fire, with the shutters closed and curtains drawn, lay Charles on his couch, one Monday evening, in a gorgeous dressing-gown of a Chinese pattern, all over pagodas, while little Charlotte sat opposite to him, curled up on a footstool. He was not always very civil to Charlotte; she sometimes came into collision with him, for she, too, was a pet, and had a will of her own, and at other times she could bore him; but just now they had a common interest, and he was gracious.
'It is striking six, so they must soon be here. I wish mamma would let me go down; but I must wait till after dinner.'
'Then, Charlotte, as soon as you come in, hold up your hands, and exclaim, "What a guy!" There will be a compliment!'
'No, Charlie; I promised mamma and Laura that you should get me into no more scrapes.'
'Did you? The next promise you make had better depend upon yourself alone.'
'But Amy said I must be quiet, because poor Sir Guy will be too sorrowful to like a racket; and when Amy tells me to be quiet, I know that I must, indeed.'
'Most true,' said Charles, laughing.
'Do you think you shall like Sir Guy?'
'I shall be able to determine,' said Charles, sententiously, 'when I have seen whether he brushes his hair to the right or left.'
'Philip brushes his to the left.'
'Then undoubtedly Sir Guy will brush his to the right.'
'Is there not some horrid story about those Morvilles of Redclyffe?' asked Charlotte. 'I asked Laura, and she told me not to be curious, so I knew there was something in it; and then I asked Amy, and she said it would be no pleasure to me to know.'
'Ah! I would have you prepared.'
'Why, what is it? Oh! dear Charlie! are you really going to tell me?'
'Did you ever hear of a deadly feud?'
'I have read of them in the history of Scotland. They went on hating and killing each other for ever. There was one man who made his enemy's children eat out of a pig-trough, and another who cut off his head.'
'His own?'
'No, his enemy's, and put it on the table, at breakfast, with a piece of bread in its mouth.'
'Very well; whenever Sir Guy serves up Philip's head at breakfast, with a piece of bread in his mouth, let me know.'
Charlotte started up. 'Charles, what do you mean? Such things don't happen now.'
'Nevertheless, there is a deadly feud between the two branches of the house of Morville.'
'But it is very wrong,' said Charlotte, looking frightened.'
'Wrong? Of course it is.'
'Philip won't do anything wrong. But how will they ever get on?'
'Don't you see? It must be our serious endeavour to keep the peace, and prevent occasions of discord.'
'Do you think anything will happen?'
'It is much to be apprehended,' said Charles, solemnly.
At that moment the sound of wheels was heard, and Charlotte flew off to her private post of observation, leaving her brother delighted at having mystified her. She returned on tip-toe. 'Papa and Sir Guy are come, but not Philip; I can't see him anywhere.'
'Ah you have not looked in Sir Guy's great-coat pocket.'
'I wish you would not plague me so! You are not in earnest?'
The pettish inquiring tone was exactly what delighted him. And he continued to tease her in the same style till Laura and Amabel came running in with their report of the stranger.
'He is come!' they cried, with one voice.
'Very gentlemanlike!' said Laura.
'Very pleasant looking,' said Amy. 'Such fine eyes!'
'And so much expression,' said Laura. 'Oh!'
The exclamation, and the start which accompanied it, were caused by hearing her father's voice close to the door, which had been left partly open. 'Here is poor Charles,' it said, 'come in, and see him; get over the first introduction--eh, Guy?' And before he had finished, both he and the guest were in the room, and Charlotte full of mischievous glee at her sister's confusion.
'Well, Charlie, boy, how goes it?' was his father's greeting. 'Better, eh? Sorry not to find you down-stairs; but I have brought Guy to see you.' Then, as Charles sat up and shook hands with Sir Guy, he continued--'A fine chance for you, as I was telling him, to have a companion always at hand: a fine chance? eh, Charlie?'
'I am not so unreasonable as to expect any one to be always at hand,' said Charles, smiling, as he looked up at the frank, open face, and lustrous hazel eyes turned on him with compassion