thout thinking much about
himself--for he was a boy of active perceptions and easily forgot his
own existence in that of Robert Bruce--he had never supposed that he
could be shut out from such a lot, or have a very different part in the
world from that of the uncle who petted him. It is possible (though not
greatly believed in at present) to be fond of poverty and take it for a
bride, to prefer scoured deal, red quarries and whitewash for one's
private surroundings, to delight in no splendor but what has open doors
for the whole nation, and to glory in having no privileges except such
as nature insists on; and noblemen have been known to run away from
elaborate ease and the option of idleness, that they might bind
themselves for small pay to hard-handed labor. But Daniel's tastes were
altogether in keeping with his nurture: his disposition was one in
which everyday scenes and habits beget not _ennui_ or rebellion, but
delight, affection, aptitudes; and now the lad had been stung to the
quick by the idea that his uncle--perhaps his father--thought of a
career for him which was totally unlike his own, and which he knew very
well was not thought of among possible destinations for the sons of
English gentlemen. He had often stayed in London with Sir Hugo, who to
indulge the boy's ear had carried him to the opera to hear the great
tenors, so that the image of a singer taking the house by storm was
very vivid to him; but now, spite of his musical gift, he set himself
bitterly against the notion of being dressed up to sing before all
those fine people, who would not care about him except as a wonderful
toy. That Sir Hugo should have thought of him in that position for a
moment, seemed to Daniel an unmistakable proof that there was something
about his birth which threw him out from the class of gentlemen to
which the baronet belonged. Would it ever be mentioned to him? Would
the time come when his uncle would tell him everything? He shrank from
the prospect: in his imagination he preferred ignorance. If his father
had been wicked--Daniel inwardly used strong words, for he was feeling
the injury done him as a maimed boy feels the crushed limb which for
others is merely reckoned in an average of accidents--if his father had
done any wrong, he wished it might never be spoken of to him: it was
already a cutting thought that such knowledge might be in other minds.
Was it in Mr. Fraser's? probably not, else he would not have spoken in