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You talk of Redclyffe, and your brute creation there, not like a book, and still less like a commonplace man; you are innocent and unsophisticated, and take new points of view; you are something to interest oneself about; your coming in is something to look forward to; you make the singing not such mere milk-and-water, your reading the Praelectiones is an additional landmark to time; besides the mutton of to-day succeeding the beef of yesterday.
"The documents are in the hands of my agents in London," replied Redclyffe; "and seem to be ample, among them being a certified genealogy from the first emigrant downward, without a break.
The old figure made no answer; nor could Redclyffe be quite sure that his voice had any effect upon it, though he fancied that it was shaken a little, as if his voice came to it from afar. But it continued to gaze at him, or at least to have its aged face turned towards him in the dim light; and this strange composure, and unapproachableness, were very frightful.
'I can't imagine how a person who has seen a ghost could ever speak of it, said Amy. 'Did you not tell us a story of pixies at Redclyffe? said Laura. 'O yes; the people there believe in them firmly. Jonas Ledbury heard them laughing one night when he could not get the gate open, said Guy. 'Ah! You are the authority for ghosts, said Philip.
But Redclyffe was glad that the explanation was over, and that he might now remain at Braithwaite's table, under his roof, without that uneasy feeling of treachery which, whether rightly or not, had haunted him hitherto. He felt joyous, and stretched his hand out for the bottle which Braithwaite kept near himself, instead of passing it.
This is often merely external; but in Redclyffe, having delicate original traits in his character, it was something more; and, we are bold to say, when our countrymen are developed, or any one class of them, as they ought to be, they will show finer traits than have yet been seen.
In this latter branch of information, indeed, the work seemed particularly full, and contained every incident that would have worked well into historical romance. "Aye, aye," said the Warden, laughing at some strange incident of this sort which Redclyffe read out to him.
'Yes, said Philip; 'when old Sir Guy made it an especial point that my father should take the guardianship, he only consented on condition that my uncle should be joined with him; so now my uncle is alone in the trust, and I cannot help thinking something must have happened at Redclyffe. It is certainly not Sir Guy's writing.
And, after all, we are the gainers; for it would have been a forlorn thing to have seen Amy go off to reign queen-mother at Redclyffe, and most notably well would she have reigned, with that clear little head. I vow 'tis a talent thrown away! However, I can't grumble.
I wonder if it is part of his musical temperament to be as keenly alive to all around, as his ear is to every note. A bright day, a fine view, is such real happiness to him; he dwells on every beauty of Redclyffe with such affection; and then, when he reads, Charles says it is like going over the story again himself to watch his face act it in that unconscious manner.
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