Truly mine is a very faulty character, yet am I given to self-deception; the kindness and partiality of every one round me help to blind me to my own faults, and perhaps to draw me into a little hypocrisy, to make each ‘black spot’ more black.”
It will be observed that Emmie was no stranger to self-examination; it was to the maiden no new thing to commune with her heart and be still.
CHAPTER VI.
THREE WARNINGS
“You are right, Bruce; it is certainly desirable for you to go down to Wiltshire to-day to make any needful arrangements, and prepare for our arrival to-morrow,” said Mr. Trevor to his son on the following morning, when the family were at the breakfast-table. “New servants will need verbal directions; and you will see to the unpacking of the furniture which I have sent down from this place, and to the most suitable disposal of it in the several rooms of Myst Court.” The gentleman rolled up his breakfast-napkin, and slipped it into its ring. “Your train starts at 10.30,” he added, as he rose from his seat.
“Is Vibert to go with me?” inquired Bruce, glancing at his brother, who had, as usual, come down late, and was still engaged with his anchovies and muffin.
“I do not think that Vibert would give you much help,” observed Mr. Trevor.
“No help at all,” exclaimed Vibert quickly. “It may be just in Bruce’s line to order and direct, see that there are enough of pots and pans in the kitchen, meat in the larder, and fires all over the house; but as for me – ”
“You think it enough to eat the food and enjoy the fire,” observed the captain drily.
“And I positively must go to Albert Hall to-night; the Nairns have asked me to make one of their party, and I really could not disappoint them,” continued Vibert. “It is quite necessary that I should have a little amusement before going to bury myself in the wilds of Wiltshire. As Moore the poet sings, —
‘To-night at least, to-night be gay,
Whate’er to-morrow brings!’”
“That’s fair enough,” observed the indulgent father.
Bruce exchanged a glance with his uncle which conveyed the unuttered thought of both: “It is scarcely fair that one brother should have all the trouble and the other all the amusement.” Vibert noticed the look, and laughed.
“Duty first – pleasure afterwards – that’s the motto taught to all good little children!” he cried. “Bruce, you are the elder, and like to be first, so you naturally pair off with duty, whilst I am modest enough to be quite contented with pleasure.”
Mr. Trevor smiled at the jest, though he shook his bald head in gentle reproof. Then turning to his brother-in-law, he observed, “Edward, I have an early engagement in London, and must be off to the station. I am afraid that I shall not find you here on my return.”
“I also start early,” said the captain. “Emmie has ordered the conveyance to be at the door at ten. I must therefore wish you good-bye now, thanking you for my pleasant visit to Summer Villa, and hoping next spring to find you all well and happy in your new home.”
The brothers-in-law cordially shook hands and parted, Mr. Trevor going off to the station, as usual, on foot.
“I say, Bruce,” observed Vibert, “if you have the settling about the rooms at Myst Court, mind that you give me a good one. I like plenty of air and light, and a cheerful view. No poky little cabin for me, nor an attic at the top of the house; long stairs are a terrible bore.”
“I shall certainly give my first attention to the accommodation of my father and sister,” said Bruce; “they never think of themselves.”
“A hit at me, I suppose,” cried Vibert with unruffled good-humour. “Ah! that reminds me of our conversation last evening. Captain, have you been hunting up the ghosts in our haunted rooms?” asked the youth as he rose from his place at the breakfast-table.
Arrows replied by drawing forth a memorandum-book from the pocket of his surtout. He unclasped it, and took out from it three minute pieces of paper, neatly folded up and addressed.
“I am going upstairs to look after my luggage,” said the captain; “I leave with you – ”
“These three private and confidential communications!” cried Vibert, playfully snatching the papers out of his uncle’s hand. “Each one, I see, is directed: here’s yours, Emmie; yours, Bruce; and here is mine!”
Captain Arrows did not wait to watch the effect produced by his little missives, but quitted the room to complete preparations for his departure.
“I’m of a frank nature,” said Vibert; “I don’t care if all the world hear my good uncle’s opinion of me!” and, unfolding the scrap of paper which he held, the youth read aloud as follows: “Be on your guard against the Pride that repels advice, resents reproof, and refuses to own a fault. I don’t recognize my likeness in this photo!” cried the youth; “if the portrait had been intended for Bruce,” – Vibert turned the paper and looked at the back – “sure enough, it is directed to Bruce; and the captain has hit him off to the life!”
“You made the apparent blunder on purpose,” said Bruce with ill-suppressed anger, as he took the paper from Vibert, and then threw it into the fire. Then, after tossing down on the table the unopened note which had been handed to him first, Bruce Trevor turned on his heel, and quitted the apartment.
“Stung and nettled! stung and nettled! does he not wince!” cried Vibert, looking after his brother. “The captain has, sure enough, laid his finger on the sensitive spot!”
“I am so much vexed at your having read that private paper aloud,” said Emmie; “it was never intended that we should know its contents.”
“It told us nothing new,” observed Vibert. “Bruce’s pride is as plain as the nose on his face; only, like the nose, it is too close to him – too much a part of himself, for him to see it.”
“Bruce is a noble, unselfish, generous fellow!” cried Emmie.
Vibert cared little to hear his brother’s praises. “What is in your tiny paper?” he asked, after he had glanced at his own. “Why, Emmie, you look surprised at what our uncle has written. Tell me, just tell me what lurking mischief the sharp-eyed Mentor has ferreted out in you. Some concealed inclination to commit burglary or manslaughter?”
“I do not quite understand what my uncle means,” said Emmie, gazing thoughtfully upon the little missive which she had opened and read.
“I could explain it – I could make it clear – just let me see what the oracle has written!” cried Vibert, with mirth and curiosity sparkling in his handsome dark eyes. “I’ll tell you in return, Emmie, what he has put in my scrap of paper: Beware of Selfishness. Short but not sweet, and rather unjust. I am thoughtless and gay, I care not who says that much; but as for being selfish, it’s a slander, an ungenerous slander!”
“Perhaps our uncle has again laid his finger on a sensitive spot,” observed Emmie with a smile, but one so gentle that it could not offend.
“I want to know what the fault-finder lays to your charge, what solemn admonition has called up the roses on those fair cheeks!” cried the younger brother; and throwing one arm round Emmie, with his other hand Vibert possessed himself of the paper of
