The Sun.
London, England, 1863-11-17 00:00:00

JANET'S BROTHERS.

The usual hour passed, and they did not come; the street
grew dark ; there ous hardly any further use in watching,
but we could not make up our minds to leave the window.
The lamplighter, Hilary and I always used to look out for
when we were children, passed down the street; just as he
lighted our lamp, the three figures we were waiting for
passed wader it; the sudden glare fell upon their faces, and
I knew exactly how it was. My father was walking first,
talking to Hilary, and Charlie was lagging behind. Nests
ran out io open the door for them, and my mother turned
on the gas-light, and went to her usual place at the tea-
table.

" Well, how has Hilary done ?" she asked, as soon as
they came into the room.
" Very creditably ; better than I expected," my father
answered cheerfully ; but his tones did not satiety me. I
knew there would be nothing to be learned by studying his
face, so 'turned from one to the other of the boys. II ilary's
face was steady, but pale ; the paleness might be caused by
fatigue; nothing would ever make him look triumphant.
Charlie's face was flushed, and there was suite a new ex

pression in his usually lazy brown eyes ; a restless light,
that I had never seen there before. Did it betoken morti-
fication, or what new excitement ?
It was a lecture night; and as my father was later than
usual ha coming home we sat down at once at the tea table.
Hilary gratified my mother by eating with his usual school-
boy appetite. Charlie drank large draughts of tea, and
played with his spoon. My father soon pushed his plate
and cup from him, rose from the table, collected his books,
and walked to the door; then he turned, came back, and
stood for a minute or two opposite Hilary, looking at him.
"Hilary, my boy," he said, "it is better that you should
not be kept in suspense; I have heard what the decision of
the examiners is likely to be. You have done your best; I
am satisfied with you; but you have failed again. Mr.
Carr, the youngest of the examiners, my late pupil, told
toe before I lett tho school that, though you had done
better than any of the candidates of your own age, ho and
his coadjutors considered that there was one among the
younger scholars to whom they should feel obliged to give
the first place. It is Charlie whd has won the prize !"
I was prepared, but, my mother and Neste were not; they
both burst out in acclamations that sounded very like in-
dignation against Charlie. He had jumped up when my
father spoke, quite white and trembling, and there was real
pain in the tone of his voice when it rose above theirs.
"Mamma, Nests, Hilary, I could not help it I I did not
mean—"

My father raised his hand and hushed them all. " Charlie
was bound to do his best," ho said, rather sternly. " I
consider his success an accident ; not owing to any superior
diligence on his part, but to the unusual course one of the
examiners took in his questions. He happened to draw out
precisely the sort of knowledge and ability Charlie has. 1
am sorry, for his sake, that he has succeeded so soon and
so easily ; it will not be an advantage to him in the end.
Now I must go. Hilary, my boy, I know you too well to
think it needful to remind you in what spirit disappoint-
ment ought to be borne." In passing round the table my
father put his hand for an instant on Hilary's head—a
most unusual mark of favour with him—and then he
left us.
For a minute or two after the door shut behind him we
were all silent. Charlie, who was trembling so that he
could not stand, sat down, and dropped his face in his
hands. We none of us knew what to say to him ; we could
not congratulate him, and yet, after my father's reproof, we
dared not do anything else.
Hilary looked appealingly at my mother, and then
crossed the room and put his arm round Charlie's shoulder.
" It is all right; what is the matter, Charlie ?" he said.
At the touch of Hilary's hand Charlie lifted up his head,
but the glance he got at Hilary's face overcame the last
remnant of self-control; nothing but flight could save him
from the disgrace of being seen crying. He shook himself
free, and dashed out of the room ; the next minute the slam-
ming of the bedroom door shook the house.
Al! our extracts are taken from the first
volume, because they serve best to intro-
duce the various members of the family, and we
do not wish to betray any of the secrets of the after
story. The passages we have quoted may serve to
give some idea of the very graceful style of this
most charming story. In some respects, in her
simple life-like details of homely everyday affairs,
the writer of this novel has some resemblance to
Miss Bremer. We say this without detracting from
her merits as an original genius. For, genius of an
original kind the authoress of " Janet's Home" un-
doubtedly possesses. And confident are we that
with merely ordinary care in the application of her
great natural gifts and graces as a writer, she may
readily win for herself as a delineator of home life
a position certainly unsurpassed, probably unri-
valled, among her contemporaries. The future
before her as a novelist is that of becoming the Miss
Austin of her generation.