'I should be inclined to believe his own account of himself,' said she.
'I tell you, 'tis utterly against reason,' said Mr. Edmonstone, angrily. 'If he was a fellow like Philip, or James Ross, I could believe it; but he--he make a book-worm! He hates it, like poison, at the bottom of his heart, I'll answer for it; and the worst of it is, the fellow putting forward such a fair reason one can't--being his guardian, and all--say what one thinks of it oneself. Eh, mamma?'
'Not exactly,' said Mrs. Edmonstone, smiling.
'Well, you take him in hand, mamma. I dare say he will tell you the rights of it, and if it is only that Gordon, explain it rightly to him, show him 'tis only the man's way; tell him he treats me so for ever, and would the Lord-Lieutenant if he was in it.'
'For a' that and a' that,' said Charles, as Amy led him into the drawing-room.
'You are sure the reading is the only reason?' said Amy.'
'He's quite absurd enough for it,' said Charles; but 'absurd' was pronounced in a way that made its meaning far from annoying even to Guy's little champion.
Guy came in the next moment, and running lightly up-stairs after Mrs. Edmonstone, found her opening the dressing-room door, and asked if he might come in.
'By all means,' she said; 'I am quite ready for one of our twilight talks.'
'I am afraid I have vexed Mr. Edmonstone,' began Guy; 'and I am very sorry.'
'He was only afraid that something might have occurred to vex you, which you might not like to mention to him,' said Mrs. Edmonstone, hesitating a little.
'Me! What could I have done to make him think so? I am angry with no one but myself. The fact is only this, the hunting is too pleasant; it fills up my head all day and all night; and I don't attend rightly to anything else. If I am out in the morning and try to pay for it at night, it will not do; I can but just keep awake and that's all; the Greek letters all seem to be hunting each other, the simplest things grow difficult, and at last all I can think of, is how near the minute hand of my watch is near to the hour I have set myself. So, for the last fortnight, every construing with Mr. Lascelles has been worse than the last; and as to my Latin verses, they were beyond everything shocking, so you see there is no making the two things agree, and the hunting must wait till I grow steadier, if I ever do. Heigho! It is a great bore to be so stupid, for I thought--But it is of no use to talk of it!'