was my cause of sorrow. In a moment I poured out
a flood of complaints against Mrs. Waddy for vexing my father. When she
heard of the scarlet livery, my aunt lifted her hands. 'The man is near
the end of his wits and his money together,' said Mr. Bannerbridge; and
she said to me, 'My darling Harry will come back to his own nice little
room, and see his grandpapa soon, won't you, my pet? All is ready for him
there as it used to be, except poor mama. "Kiss my boy, my Harry--Harry
Richmond." Those were her last words on her death-bed, before she went to
God, Harry, my own! There is Sampson the pony, and Harry's dog Prince,
and his lamb Daisy, grown a sheep, and the ploughboy, Dick, with the big
boots.' Much more sweet talk of the same current that made my face cloudy
and bright, and filled me with desire for Riversley, to see my mother's
grave and my friends.

Aunt Dorothy looked at me. 'Come now,' she said; 'come with me, Harry.'
Her trembling seized on me like a fire. I said, 'Yes,' though my heart
sank as if I had lost my father with the word. She caught me in her arms
tight, murmuring, 'And dry our tears and make our house laugh. Oh! since
the night that Harry went . . . . . And I am now Harry's mama, he has
me.'

I looked on her forehead for the wreath of white flowers my mother used
to wear, and thought of my father's letter with the prayer written on the
black-bordered page. I said I would go, but my joy in going was gone. We
were stopped in the doorway by Mrs. Waddy. Nothing would tempt her to
surrender me. Mr. Bannerbridge tried reasoning with her, and, as he said,
put the case, which seemed to have perched on his forefinger. He talked
of my prospects, of my sole chance of being educated morally and
virtuously as became the grandson of an English gentleman of a good old
family, and of my father having spent my mother's estate, and of the
danger of his doing so with mine, and of religious duty and the awfulness
of the position Mrs. Waddy stood in. He certainly subdued me to very
silent breathing, but did not affect me as my aunt Dorothy's picturing of
Riversley had done; and when Mrs. Waddy, reduced to an apparent
submissiveness, addressed me piteously, 'Master Richmond, would you leave
papa?' I cried out, 'No, no, never leave my papa,' and twisted away from
my aunt's keeping. My father's arrival caused me to be withdrawn, but I
heard his offer of his hospitality and all that was his; and subsequently
there was lo