The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1909-03-24
CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XI.
1t was some years before the Tow
ers was visited again. Tom went to
Oxford and had a not very fortunate
career there, which gave his mother
a certain justification in resisting all
attempts to take her back to what
she felt to be so ill-omened a house.
| Beaufort took the common-sense part
in these controversies. What did one
house or another matter? he said.
| Why should one be ill-omened more
| than another? AS well say that Ok
ford was ill-omened when Tom got
into scrapes quite as great as he could
have done elsewhere; indeed, even
| E%aston, the most peaceabie place In
the world, had not been without dan
gers for the headstrong boy whose
passions were SO strong and his pru-
| dence so small. A boy who. is not to
| be trusted to keep his word, who
cares only for his own pleasure, who
likes everything he ought not to like,
and cares for nothing that he ought,
how should he be safe anywhere?
Beaufort was too polite to say all
these things about Carry's boy, but
he tried his best to persuade her that
the discipline of having guests to en-
terrain, and the occupation of shoot
ing-"something to do" which is so
essential for every creature-would
be the best things possible for Tom.
Probably he was right, and she iDju-
dicious. Who can tell beforehand
what procedure Is the best? But
poor Lady Car could not get out Of
her eyes Toms wild aspect as he had
burst into the hall on that dreadful
evening, dancing around the track of
the procession going in to DINER.
Peccadi1loes of this kind since had
been kept ont of her sight, and she
had tried to convince herself that it
was the place and not the boy who
had been in the wrong. And Janet
somehow had come to share her
mothers d~isinclination for the Tow
ers. Janet had received a letter, not
long after her return to Easton,
which had plunged her into the deep
est alarm; which had, indeed, reached
her innocently> enough without any
remark, being taken for a letter from
one of her cousins at Dalmylian, but
which frightened her more than
words could say. She had dispatched
a furtive note in reply, imploring
"Mr. Charlie" not to write-oh, not
to write any more-and promising
eagerly not to forget either him or
the pony If he only would do what
she asked, and not write again. And
poor Janet had been on the tenter-
hooks for a long time, terrified every
day to see another missive arrive.
She could scarcely believe in her
good fortune when she found herself
unmolested, but she was too much
frightened to wish to return to the
Towers. And thus time went on,
which is so much longer to the young
than it is to the old. Lady Car, in
deed, was not old, but the children
were so determined in believing her
so, and in her life disappointments
had been so many, that she fell very
early into the passive stage. All that
she had done had been so Intellectual,
the result had been so completely un-
responsive to her efforts; at least, it
seemed the only policy to accept
everything, to attempt nothing. Life
at Easton had accordingly fallen into
an exceedingly cosy routine, Beau
forts beautiful library was a place
where he read the papers, or a novel,
or some other unfatiguing book.
Sometimes his studies were classical;
that is to say, he went over his IA
vorite bits Of classical authors, in de-
lightful dillettantism, and felt that
his occupations were not frivolous,
but the highest that could occupy the
mind. He was quite c%ontented,
though his life was not an eventful
one. He had, he said, no desire to
shine. Sometimes he rode into Cor
delton to the County Club. Some
tines he went up to town to the
Athenaeum, to see what was going
on. His wife's society was always
pleasant to him in the intervals.
Nothing could be more agreeable,
more smooth, and soft, and refined,
and p%leasurable than his life; moth
ing more unlike the life of high en-
deaVor and power Of which Lady Car
had dreamed. Poor Lady Car! She
had dreamed of so many things which
had come to nothing. And she had
much to make her happy-a serene
and tranquil life; a husband full of
affection. Her son, indeed, was like
l., people thought, to give her trou-
bic. No doubt she had reason to be
anxious about her son. But, hap
PLY, he was not dependent upon his
own industry, nor was it of very much
Importance to him to do we'll at COL
lege. A young man with a good
estate may SOW his wild oats, and all
be ell. And this was the only rum
pied leaf in her bed Of roses, people
said.
She herself never disclosed to any
body what was in her Utmost heart.
She had 4 smile for them all. The
only matter in which she stood fc.
her " way was that question Of
going to Scotland-not there, not
there, but anywhere else-anything
else. She fell into a sort of petite
sante during these years. She said
she was not ill-not i'll at all, only
languid and lazy; but gradually fell