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144

THE PANELLED HOUSE.

say that no one with Escott blood in him can do
any thing worth doing—even when it comes to
sacrificing himself for his friend, and thinking
nothing of it!”

** You think too much of it, you know.”

“JT don’t a bit. Escott, don’t you see that it is
a complete contradiction to all those horrid things
you say sometimes, about being doomed to be bad,
and all the rest ?”

SOW iby

“How can you be doomed to be bad when you
have the power to do a noble thing like this?
Why, how do you think the power came there?”

“T don’t know.”

* Well, then, I do. I am very proud of you,
and all the more because I am quite sure that this
is only the beginning of your goodness, and that
you will go on and on till you are up so high, you
will be quite out of reach of poor little me!
Never mind, I shall acquiesce. Good-bye Eseott.”

“I’m far enough from that now,” said Escott to
himself as he watched the slender little figure trip
away, and saw her sweet smiling face as she
turned round and waved her hand to him before
she vanished in the lane. He little thought what
pure unselfish exultation was in her heart that she
had at last a right to be proud of him, not to pity
him. Her love for him seemed to have attained
the one element of joy which it had hitherto been
lacking. He was not of sufficiently humble spirit
to be able to realize what Winny’s love for him
had involved, or how the surprise of finding him
capable of a nobler source of action than she had
supposed had lifted her up to a serene delight that
she had never before known.

He went on, after she had left him, in a curious
confusion of pleasure and dread, self-satisfaction
and aspiration. LEscott had often been persecuted,
as he imagined, before; but he had never been
able to persuade himself that it was for righteous-
ness sake. This time he was voluntarily suffering
for doing a generous action; and Winny’s honest

| studied gentleness which he always forced himself

faith and admiration had made him feel that he
did not regret .it. But at the same time he was
quite conscious that the consequences would not
be pleasant. If he had only been on terms of
fuller confidence with his father, he might have |
come to him, and said simply, “Father, Iam in a
scrape which I don’t deserve, but I cannot clear
myself without implicating others.” We who

know Colonel Armyn may be sure that he would |
never have said a word which could have implied
the least suspicion of his son, or the least doubt of |
his word; and that he would have honoured and}
respected Escott the more from that time forward.
But Escott and his father had a barrier between
them, which, if it were caused in part by Colonel
Armyn’s mistakes in his son’s education, was kept

up chiefly by Escott’s pride and self-will. If
Escott had only chosen to look round and see his
father at his side in his natural aspect, all would
have been well; but Colonel Armyn’s shadow,
thrown upon the clouds of his son’s misconception,
loomed like a distorted Brocken-spectre, and was
by no means like the original.

Escott walked into the house: opened the
drawing-room door, where he beheld his grand-
mother sitting in her easy chair by the window,
with the long strip of coarse tapestry-work which
she worked at the rate of ten stitches a day. She
greeted him warmly, for she was both fond and
proud of her only grandson; and he was always
much more kindly and respectful towards her than
was Flora. Then he inquired where his father
was, and at that same moment Colonel Armyn
entered the room. When he perceived Escott he |
gave a little start of surprise, and said, “ Escott!
you here?”

It was not a surprising greeting considering
how unexpectedly Escott had arrived: but it was
an unfortunate one. Escott’s sensitive temper was
roused, and instead of coming up to his father to
shake hands with him, he stood where he was
with a defiant look in his eyes, and said, “I came
ten minutes ago.”

** What has happened ?
end for another fortnight.”

“JT am sent down, that is all,” said Escott,
coolly.

‘Sent down ?”

“Sent down for a year.”

“ Will you come into my room and explain what
you mean?” said Colonel Armyn in the tone of

I thought term did not

to use when he was angry, and which had the
effect of annoying his son more than if he had
given vent to his feelings.

He followed his father into the barely-furnished
library, with its three empty bookcases and one
full one. When they were both standing there,
facing one another on the hearth-rug, Colonel
Armyn said, “Now Escott, what have you been |
doing ?”

* Nothing,” said Escott.

“Then what have you been sent down for?
Don’t behave like a child, Escott.”

“You asked what I had done, not what they
had sent me down for,” said Escott. « They
choose to say that I played a stupid trick on the
Dean—you'll hear of it soon enough.”

“Then why did you not clear yourself ?”

“T did not choose,” said Escott, nonchalantly.

It must be owned that this style of communica-
tion of an unpleasant fact was not calculated to
inspire Colonel Armyn with much sympathy for
the sufferer.

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