"And what, may I ask you," said father, "do you want in the way of advicefrom one of the trustees of your dear mother's will?" Rupert got veryred, and was going to say something rude--I knew it from his look--but hestopped, and said in the same gentle way:
"I want your advice, sir, as to the best way of doing something which Iwish to do, and, as I am under age, cannot do myself. It must be donethrough the trustees of my mother's will."
"And the assistance for which you wish?" said father, putting his hand inhis pocket. I know what that action means when I am talking to him.
"The assistance I want," said Rupert, getting redder than ever, "is frommy--the trustee also. To carry out what I want to do."
"And what may that be?" asked my father. "I would like, sir, to makeover to my Aunt Janet--" My father interrupted him by asking--he hadevidently remembered my jest:
"Miss MacSkelpie?" Rupert got still redder, and I turned away; I didn'tquite wish that he should see me laughing. He went on quietly:
"_MacKelpie_, sir! Miss Janet MacKelpie, my aunt, who has always been sokind to me, and whom my mother loved--I want to have made over to her themoney which my dear mother left to me." Father doubtless wished to havethe matter take a less serious turn, for Rupert's eyes were all shinywith tears which had not fallen; so after a little pause he said, withindignation, which I knew was simulated:
"Have you forgotten your mother so soon, Rupert, that you wish to giveaway the very last gift which she bestowed on you?" Rupert was sitting,but he jumped up and stood opposite my father with his fist clenched. Hewas quite pale now, and his eyes looked so fierce that I thought he woulddo my father an injury. He spoke in a voice which did not seem like hisown, it was so strong and deep.
"Sir!" he roared out. I suppose, if I was a writer, which, thank God, Iam not--I have no need to follow a menial occupation--I would call it"thundered." "Thundered" is a longer word than "roared," and would, ofcourse, help to gain the penny which a writer gets for a line. Fathergot pale too, and stood quite still. Rupert looked at him steadily forquite half a minute--it seemed longer at the time--and suddenly smiledand said, as he sat down again:
"Sorry. But, of course, you don't understand such things." Then he wenton talking before father had time to say a word.
"Let us get back to business. As you do not seem to follow me, let meexplain that it is _because_ I do not forget that I wish to do this. Iremember my dear mother's wish to make Aunt Janet happy, and would liketo do as she did."
"_Aunt_ Janet?" said father, very properly sneering at his ignorance."She is not your aunt. Why, even her sister, who was married to youruncle, was only your aunt by courtesy." I could not help feeling thatRupert meant to be rude to my father, though his words were quite polite.If I had been as much bigger than him as he was than me, I should haveflown at him; but he was a very big boy for his age. I am myself ratherthin. Mother says thinness is an "appanage of birth."
"My Aunt Janet, sir, is an aunt by love. Courtesy is a small word to usein connection with such devotion as she has given to us. But I needn'ttrouble you with such things, sir. I take it that my relations on theside of my own house do not affect you. I am a Sent Leger!" Fatherlooked quite taken aback. He sat quite still before he spoke.
"Well, Mr. St. Leger, I shall think over the matter for a while, andshall presently let you know my decision. In the meantime, would youlike something to eat? I take it that as you must have started veryearly, you have not had any breakfast?" Rupert smiled quite genially:
"That is true, sir. I haven't broken bread since dinner last night, andI am ravenously hungry." Father rang the bell, and told the footman whoanswered it to send the housekeeper. When she came, father said to her:
"Mrs. Martindale, take this boy to your room and give him somebreakfast." Rupert stood very still for some seconds. His face had gotred again after his paleness. Then he bowed to my father, and followedMrs. Martindale, who had moved to the door.
Nearly an hour afterwards my father sent a servant to tell him to come tothe study. My mother was there, too, and I had gone back with her. Theman came back and said:
"Mrs. Martindale, sir, wishes to know, with her respectful service, ifshe may have a word with you." Before father could reply mother told himto bring her. The housekeeper could not have been far off--that kind aregenerally near a keyhole--for she came at once. When she came in, shestood at the door curtseying and looking pale. Father said:
"Well?"
"I thought, sir and ma'am, that I had better come and tell you aboutMaster Sent Leger. I would have come at once, but I feared to disturbyou."
"Well?" Father had a stern way with servants. When I'm head of thefamily I'll tread them under my feet. That's the way to get realdevotion from servants!
"If you please, sir, I took the young gentleman into my room and ordereda nice breakfast for him, for I could see he was half famished--a growingboy like him, and so tall! Presently it came along. It was a goodbreakfast, too! The very smell of it made even me hungry. There wereeggs and frizzled ham, and grilled kidneys, and coffee, and butteredtoast, and bloater-paste--"
"That will do as to the menu," said mother. "Go on!"
"When it was all ready, and the maid had gone, I put a chair to the tableand said, 'Now, sir, your breakfast is ready!' He stood up and said,'Thank you, madam; you are very kind!' and he bowed to me quite nicely,just as if I was a lady, ma'am!"
"Go on," said mother.
"Then, sir, he held out his hand and said, 'Good-bye, and thank you,' andhe took up his cap.
"'But aren't you going to have any breakfast, sir?' I says.
"'No, thank you, madam,' he said; 'I couldn't eat here . . . in thishouse, I mean!' Well, ma'am, he looked so lonely that I felt my heartmelting, and I ventured to ask him if there was any mortal thing I coulddo for him. 'Do tell me, dear,' I ventured to say. 'I am an old woman,and you, sir, are only a boy, though it's a fine man you will be--likeyour dear, splendid father, which I remember so well, and gentle likeyour poor dear mother.'
"'You're a dear!' he says; and with that I took up his hand and kissedit, for I remember his poor dear mother so well, that was dead only ayear. Well, with that he turned his head away, and when I took him bythe shoulders and turned him round--he is only a young boy, ma'am, forall he is so big--I saw that the tears were rolling down his cheeks.With that I laid his head on my breast--I've had children of my own,ma'am, as you know, though they're all gone. He came willing enough, andsobbed for a little bit. Then he straightened himself up, and I stoodrespectfully beside him.
"'Tell Mr. Melton,' he said, 'that I shall not trouble him abo