Eva; but he regarded her rather as a siren, who drew him off
from his Latin and Greek.'

'Yes; I am ashamed of myself for such a fit of match-making! Forget it,
Charlie, as fast as you can.'

CHAPTER 11

This warld's wealth, when I think o't,
Its pride, and a' the lave o't,
Fie, fie on silly coward man,
That he should be the slave o't.
--BURNS

In another week Mr. Edmonstone and his eldest daughter were to depart
on their Irish journey. Laura, besides the natural pain in leaving home,
was sorry to be no longer near Philip, especially as it was not likely
that he would be still at Broadstone on their return; yet she was so
restless and dissatisfied, that any change was welcome, and the fear of
betraying herself almost took away the pleasure of his presence.

He met them at the railway station at Broadstone, where Mr. Edmonstone,
finding himself much too early, recollected something he had forgotten
in the town, and left his daughter to walk up and down the platform
under Philip's charge. They felt it a precious interval, but both were
out of spirits, and could hardly profit by it.

'You will be gone long before we come back,' said Laura.

'In a fortnight or three weeks, probably.'

'But you will still be able to come to Hollywell now and then?'

'I hope so. It is all the pleasure I can look for. We shall never see
such a summer again.'

'Oh, it has been a memorable one!'

'Memorable! Yes. It has given me an assurance that compensates for all
I have lost; yet it has made me feel, more than ever before, how poverty
withers a man's hopes.'

'O Philip, I always thought your poverty a great, noble thing!'

'You thought like a generous-tempered girl who has known nothing of its
effects.'

'And do you know that Guy says the thing to be proud of is of holding
the place you do, without the aid of rank or riches.'

'I would not have it otherwise--I would not for worlds that my father
had acted otherwise,' said Philip. 'You understand that, Laura.'

'Of course I do.'

'But when you speak--when Guy speaks of my holding the place I do, you
little know what it is to feel that powers of usefulness are wasted--to
know I have the means of working my way to honour and distinction, such
as you would rejoice in Laura, to have it all within, yet feel it thrown
away. Locksley Hall, again--"every door is barred with gold, and opens
but to golden keys.'"

'I wish