runted in amaze at the stranger.
"Mother," said the young man, detaining Mrs. Leslie, who wanted to set
off in chase of Jenny--"mother, you should not let Oliver associate with
those village boors. It is time to think of a profession for him."
"Oh, he eats us out of house and home--such an appetite! But as to a
profession--what is he fit for? He will never be a scholar."
Randal nodded a moody assent; for, indeed, Oliver had been sent to
Cambridge, and supported out of Randal's income from his official
pay;--and Oliver had been plucked for his Little Go.
"There is the army," said the elder brother--"a gentleman's calling. How
handsome Juliet ought to be--but--I left money for masters--and she
pronounces French like a chambermaid."
"Yet she is fond of her book too. She's always reading, and good for
nothing else."
"Reading!--those trashy novels!"
"So like you--you always come to scold, and make things unpleasant,"
said Mrs. Leslie, peevishly. "You are grown too fine for us, and I am
sure we suffer affronts enough from others, not to want a little respect
from our own children."
"I did not mean to affront you," said Randal, sadly. "Pardon me. But who
else has done so?"
Then Mrs. Leslie went into a minute and most irritating catalogue of all
the mortifications and insults she had received; the grievances of a
petty provincial family, with much pretension and small power; of all
people, indeed, without the disposition to please--without the ability
to serve--who exaggerate every offence, and are thankful for no
kindness. Farmer Jones had insolently refused to send his wagon twenty
miles for coals. Mr. Giles, the butcher, requesting the payment of his
bill, had stated that the custom at Rood was too small for him to allow
credit. Squire Thornhill, who was the present owner of the fairest slice
of the old Leslie domains, had taken the liberty to ask permission to
shoot over Mr. Leslie's land, since Mr. Leslie did not preserve. Lady
Spratt (new people from the city, who hired a neighboring country seat)
had taken a discharged servant of Mrs. Leslie's without applying for the
character. The Lord-Lieutenant had given a ball, and had not invited the
Leslies. Mr. Leslie's tenants had voted against their landlord's wish at
the recent election. More than all, Squire Hazeldean and his Harry had
called at Rood, and though Mrs. Leslie had screamed out to Jenny, "Not
at home," she had been seen at the window, and the S
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