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Updated: May 29, 2025
This brought Agnes Anne round, and, with a face still pale, she asked for details. Jo supplied them in a voice which the nearness of my father reduced to a whisper. He sat with his fingers and thumbs making an isosceles triangle and his eyes gently closed, while he listened to the construing of Fred Esquillant, the pale-faced genius of the school.
Pathrick came over early on washing days to "get them clothes out on the line at a respectable hour!" My father still teaches his Ovid, and looks to Freddy Esquillant to succeed him. He is now first assistant and has taken a house for Agnes Anne. In a year or two they expect to begin thinking about getting married. But really there is no hurry.
"Miss Craven, late of Yorkshire, and Mr. Frederick Esquillant, assistant to Professor Greg at the College." "Any more declarations before witnesses to-day?" said my Lord, looking quaintly at them. "Ah the crop is not ripe yet. Well, well we must be content for one day." And he vanished into a wide, steeply-gabled house, standing crushed between higher "lands."
We had only a little while of this, however, for on the morrow Louis was to arrive from school, safely escorted by Freddy Esquillant and half-a-dozen students, who had made a jovial party all the way from Edinburgh. Now I may write myself down a selfish brute by the confession I am going to make.
You would give all for LOVE!" "Oh, man," he cried, snatching his fingers to his ears as if I blasphemed, "are ye not feared?" "No, I'm not," I declared, truly enough; "what for should I be feared? Of a lassie? Tell a lassie that ye that ye " "No, no," cried Fred Esquillant, "not again!" "Well, then, that ye 'like' her we will let it go at that.
My father took stock of my progress, and asked me for new light on certain passages we had been reading, but soon deserted me with the familiar contemptuous toss of the head, which meant that he must wait for Fred Esquillant. He might have learned by this time. At anything practical I was miles ahead of Freddie, who had no world outside of his classical books.
"What were they like?" queried Agnes Anne in an awestruck whisper; so well poised, however, that it only reached Jo's ear, and never caused my enraptured father to wink an eyelid. I really believe that, like a good Calvinist with a sound minister tried and proven, my father allowed himself a little nap by way of refreshment while Fred Esquillant was construing.
I do not know whether or not he said it unwittingly or with intent to sting me. But at any rate the thrust went home. I could hardly wait till my father had got through with his work that night, and was stretched in his easy-chair, his long pipe in one hand and a volume of Martial in the other. I broke in upon him with the words, "Father, I want to go to college with Freddie Esquillant!"
I had no doubt as to being nominated, but when the results were posted I felt shame to be whole three places in front of Freddie Esquillant, my master in all real scholarship, almost as much as my father was but who, on the day of trial, had spent his time in answering thoroughly half-a-dozen questions without attempting the others.
We could see the man's head and the boy's bent close together, and turned from us so that the westering light could fall upon their books. Fred Esquillant was to be a great scholar and to do my father infinite credit when he went to the university.
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