arms
tight, murmuring, 'And dry our tears and make our house laugh. Oh! since
the night that Harry went..... And I am now Harry's mama, he has me.'

I looked on her forehead for the wreath of white flowers my mother used
to wear, and thought of my father's letter with the prayer written on
the black-bordered page. I said I would go, but my joy in going was
gone. We were stopped in the doorway by Mrs. Waddy. Nothing would tempt
her to surrender me. Mr. Bannerbridge tried reasoning with her, and, as
he said, put the case, which seemed to have perched on his forefinger.
He talked of my prospects, of my sole chance of being educated morally
and virtuously as became the grandson of an English gentleman of a good
old family, and of my father having spent my mother's estate, and of
the danger of his doing so with mine, and of religious duty and the
awfulness of the position Mrs. Waddy stood in. He certainly subdued me
to very silent breathing, but did not affect me as my aunt Dorothy's
picturing of Riversley had done; and when Mrs. Waddy, reduced to an
apparent submissiveness, addressed me piteously, 'Master Richmond, would
you leave papa?' I cried out, 'No, no, never leave my papa,' and
twisted away from my aunt's keeping. My father's arrival caused me to
be withdrawn, but I heard his offer of his hospitality and all that was
his; and subsequently there was loud talking on his part. I was kissed
by my aunt before she went. She whispered, 'Come to us when you
are free; think of us when you pray.' She was full of tears. Mr.
Bannerbridge patted my head.

The door closed on them and I thought it was a vision that had passed.
But now my father set my heart panting with questions as to the terrible
possibility of us two ever being separated. In some way he painted my
grandfather so black that I declared earnestly I would rather die than
go to Riversley; I would never utter the name of the place where there
was evil speaking of the one I loved dearest. 'Do not, my son,' he said
solemnly, 'or it parts us two.' I repeated after him, 'I am a Roy and
not a Beltham.' It was enough to hear that insult and shame had been
cast on him at Riversley for me to hate the name of the place. We cried
and then laughed together, and I must have delivered myself with amazing
eloquence, for my father held me at arms' length and said, 'Richie, the
notion of training you for a General commandership of the British army
is a good one, but if you have got