The Inglises Part 25

"Miss Bethia spoke as coolly as if she had been speaking about the stirring up of a Johnny cake," Jem said. Violet looked eagerly from her to her mother. There was a little stir and murmur of excitement went round the table, but all awaited for their mother to speak. But she said nothing, and Miss Bethia went on, not at all as if she were saying anything to surprise anybody, but just as she would have told any piece of news.

"I've thought of it considerable. Serepta Stone has concluded to go away to a water-cure place in the States. If Debby should conclude to go to another place, I shouldn't care about staying in that big house alone. I can let it next fall, I expect. But this summer, Mrs Inglis, if you say so, you can have the house as well as not. It won't cost you a cent, and it won't be a cent's loss to me. And I don't see why that won't suit pretty well all round."

A chorus of "ohs," and "ahs," and "dear mammas," went round the table.

"It wouldn't cost more than living here," said David.

"Not so much," said Miss Bethia.

"And I am sure Mr Oswald would be delighted to have Charlotte and Sarah go, mamma," said Violet.

"He would pay you the same as he'd pay to them at the other place, and he might be sure he would get the worth of his money," said Miss Bethia.

"And I would keep house, and save you the trouble, mamma," said Violet.

"You and Debby Stone," said Miss Bethia, who seemed to consider that it was as much her affair as theirs, and so put in her word between the others.

"Davie, you'll have to lend me your fishing rod, to take to Gourlay with me," said Ned.

"Bless the child! there's fishing rods enough," said Miss Bethia.

"It's mamma's turn to speak now," said Jessie. And "yes, mamma!" and "oh! dear mamma!" were repeated again, eagerly.

There would be no use in telling all that Mrs Inglis said, or all that Miss Bethia and the rest said. It was not quite decided that night that they were to pa.s.s a part of the summer in Gourlay, but it looked so much like it that Violet held a little private jubilation with little Polly, as she undressed her for bed, before she went away, promising her, with many kisses and sweet words, that she would be rosy and strong, and as brown as a berry before she should see the bridge house again. Before she was done with it, Jem called out.

"It is time to be going, Letty, if I am to be responsible for you at the big house."

"Perhaps if you wait, Mr Philip will come for you. He said he would,"

said Jessie.

"And, just at the minute, he meant it, but we won't put him to the trouble, even if he remembers, which is doubtful," said Violet. "Come, Jem, I am ready."

"He seems a pretty likely young man, don't he?--young Mr Oswald, I mean," said Miss Bethia.

The question was not addressed to any one in particular. Jem looked at Letty, and Letty looked at Davie, and they all laughed merrily.

"Likely," in Miss Bethia's vocabulary, meant well-intentioned, agreeable, promising, all in a moderate degree, and the description fell so far short of Mr Philip's idea of himself and his merits, and indeed of their idea of him that they could not help it.

"He seems to be a pleasant-spoken youth, and good-natured," said Miss Bethia.

"Oh, yes! he is very good-natured," said Violet.

Everybody had something to say in his praise. The little ones were quite enthusiastic. Jem said he was "smart" as well as good-natured, and David, though he said less, acknowledged that he was very clever, and added Mr Caldwell's opinion, that Mr Philip had all his father's talent for business, and would do well if he were really in earnest about it, and would settle down to it. Several instances of his kindness to the children and to his own little sisters were repeated, and Mrs Inglis spoke warmly in his praise.

"Only, mamma," said Violet, with some hesitation, "all these things are agreeable to himself. He does such things because he likes to do them."

"And ain't that to be put to his credit," said Miss Bethia. "It is well when one does right things and likes to do them, ain't it?"

"Yes; but people ought to do right things because they are right, and not just because they are pleasant. If very different things were agreeable to him, he would do them all the same."

"Stuff, Letty! with your buts and your ifs. Mr Phil, is just like other people. It is only you and Davie that have such high-flown notions about right and wrong, and duty, and all that."

"Our ideas of 'duty and all that' are just like other people's, Jem, I think," said David. "They are just like Miss Bethia's, at any rate, and mamma's."

"And like Jem's own ideas, though not like Mr Philip's" said Violet.

"Violet means that if he had to choose between what is right and what is pleasant, the chances are he would choose to do what is pleasant," said Davie.

"He would not wait to choose," said Violet, gravely. "He would just do what was pleasant without at all thinking about the other."

"Mamma, do you call that charitable?" said Jem.

"I think Violet means--and Davie--that his actions are, as a general thing, guided and governed by impulse rather than by principle," said Mrs Inglis; "and you know, Jem, the same reliance cannot be placed on such a person as on--"

"On a steady old rock, like Mr Caldwell or our Davie," said Jem. "Yes, I know; still I like Phil."

"So we all like him," said Violet. "But, as mamma says, we do not rely on him. He likes us and our ways, and our admiration of him, and he likes to come here and talk with mamma, and get good advice, and all that. But he likes to go to other places, and to talk with other people, who are as different from mamma as darkness is from daylight.

He is so careless and good-tempered that anything pleases him for the moment. He has no stability. One cannot help liking him, but one cannot respect him."

Everybody looked surprised. Jem whistled.

"Why don't you tell him so? It might do him good."

"It wouldn't change his nature," said Violet, loftily. And then she bade them all good-night, and she and Jem went away, and Miss Bethia improved the occasion.

"I expect that his nature has got to be changed before he amounts to much that is good. I hope, David, you will not let this frivolous young man lead you away from the right path."

Mrs Inglis had gone out of the room, and David prepared himself for what he knew would come sooner or later, Miss Bethia's never-failing good advice.

"You are none too wise to be drawn away by a pleasant-spoken, careless youth like that. His company might easily become a snare to you, and to Jem too."

"Oh! he has very little to say to me, Miss Bethia. He is older than Jem or I. He likes to talk to mamma, and you mustn't think ill of him from what was said to-night."

"I suppose the trouble is in his bringing up," said Miss Bethia. "From all I hear, I should fear that his father hasn't a realising sense of the importance of religion for himself or his family, and what can be expected of his son?"

David did not like the turn the conversation had taken, and he did not like the next better.

"There is a great responsibility resting on you, David, with regard to the people among whom your lot is cast. It is to be hoped they'll be led to think more, and not less, of the Master you serve from your walk and conversation."

David made no answer.

"David," said Miss Bethia, "have you been living a Christian life since you came here? Such a life as would have given comfort to your father, if he had been here to see it? Have you been keeping your armour bright, David?"

"I have been trying, Miss Bethia," said David.

"Well, it is something to have been trying. It is something not to be led away. But have you been content with that? You have a battle to fight--a work to do in just the spot you stand in, and if you are faithful, you may help that unstable youth to stand on firmer ground than his feet have found yet."

David shook his head.