“I have no time to talk of that now,” said Mr. Ogilvie.  “I only looked in to hear how your mother was.  Bring down whatever books you have been getting up at twelve to-morrow; or if it is a wet day, I will come to you.”

Armine worked for this examination as eagerly as he had decorated for Miss Parsons, and in the face of the like sneers; for Bobus really believed it was all waste of time, and did not scruple to tell him so, and to laugh when he consulted Jock, whose acquirements lay more in the way of military mathematics and modern languages than of university requirements.

Perhaps the report that Armine was reading Livy with all his might was one of his mother’s best restoratives,-—and still more that when he came to wish her good-night, he said, “Mother, I’ve been a wretched, self-sufficient brute all this time; I’m very sorry, and I’ll try to go on better.”

And when she came downstairs to be petted and made much of by all the four, she found that the true and original Armine had come back, instead of Petronella’s changeling.  Indeed, the danger now was that he would overwork himself in his fervour, for Bobus’s continued ill-auguries only acted as a stimulus; nor were they silenced till she begged as a personal favour that he would not torment the boy.

Indeed her presence made life smooth and cheerful again to the young people; there were no more rubs of temper, and Bobus, whose departure was very near, showed himself softened.  He was very fond of his mother, and greatly felt the leaving her.  He assured her that it was all for her sake, and that he trusted to be able to lighten some of her burdens when his first expenses were over.

“And mother,” he said, on his last evening, “you will let me sometimes hear of my Esther?”

“Oh, Bobus, if you could only forget her!”

“Would you rob me of my great incentive-—my sweet image of purity, who rouses and guards all that is best in me?  My ’loyalty to my future wife’ is your best hope for me, mother.”

“Oh, if she were but any one else!  How can I encourage you in disobedience to your father and to hers?”

“You know what I think about that.  When my Esther ventures to judge for herself, these prejudices will give way.  She shall not be disobedient, but you will all perceive the uselessness of withholding my darling.  Meanwhile, I only ask you to let me see her name from time to time.  You won’t deny me that?”

“No, my dear, I cannot refuse you that, but you must not assume more than that I am sorry for you that your heart is set so hopelessly.  Indeed, I see no sign of her caring for you.  Do you?”

“Her heart is not opened yet, but it will.”

“Suppose it should do so to any one else?”

“She is a mere child; she has few opportunities; and if she had-— well, I think it would recall to her what she only half understood.  I am content to be patient-—and, mother, you little know the good it does me to think of her and think of you.  It is well for us men that all women are not like Janet.”