Roger laughed a little—

“Yes; I’d many a nickname at school for my slowness,” said he.

“Never mind!” said the Squire consolingly. “I’m sure I don’t. If you were a clever fellow like Osborne yonder, you’d be all for caring for books and writing, and you’d perhaps find it as dull as he does to keep company with a bumpkin Squire Jones like me. Yet, I daresay, they think a deal of you at Cambridge,” said he, after a pause, “since you’ve got this fine wranglership; I’d nearly forgotten that— the news came at such a miserable time.”

“Well, yes! They’re always proud of the senior wrangler of the year up at Cambridge. Next year I must abdicate.”

The Squire sat and gazed into the embers, still holding his useless pipe-stem. At last he said, in a low voice, as if scarcely aware he had got a listener—“I used to write to her when she was away in London, and tell her the home news. But no letter will reach her now! Nothing reaches her!”

Roger started up.

“Where’s the tobacco-box, father? Let me fill you another pipe!” and when he had done so, he stooped over his father and stroked his cheek. The Squire shook his head.

“You’ve only just come home, lad. You don’t know me, as I am now-a-days! Ask Robinson—I won’t have you asking Osborne, he ought to keep it to himself—but any of the servants will tell you I’m not like the same man, for getting into passions with them. I used to be reckoned a good master; but that’s past now! Osborne was once a little boy, and she was once alive—and I was once a good master —a good master—yes! It’s all past now.”

He took up his pipe, and began to smoke afresh; and Roger, after a silence of some minutes, began a long story about some Cambridge man’s misadventure on the hunting-field, telling it with such humour that the Squire was beguiled into hearty laughing. When they rose to go to bed, his father said to Roger—

“Well, we’ve had a pleasant evening—at least, I have. But perhaps you haven’t; for I’m but poor company now, I know.”

“I don’t know when I’ve passed a happier evening, father,” said Roger. And he spoke truly, though he did not trouble himself to find out the cause of his happiness.