"And now don't flatter yourself that you
are to be torn from your friends and hurled on the Continent against
your will. Nothing of the sort, my boy! You have a more difficult part
to play; you are to do as you please."
Crayshaw's countenance fell a little.
"Is George really angry, sir?" he asked.
"He did not seem so. He remarked that you were nearly seventeen, and
that he did not specially care about this journey."
Something very like disappointment stole over Cray's face
then--something of that feeling which now and then shows us that it is
rather a blow to us to have, all on a sudden, what we wanted. What would
we have, then? We cannot exactly tell; but it seems _that_ was not it.
"Your brother thought you and Johnnie might be with me, and came to ask.
I, of course, felt sure you were here. If you decide to go with him, you
are to be back by six o'clock; if not, you go to Mr. Tikey on Monday.
Now, my boy, I am not going to turn you out-of-doors. So adieu."
Thus saying, because Emily's little charge was awake, and she had risen
and was taking leave of the girls, he brought her down-stairs, and,
wishing her good-bye' at his gate, went back to Wigfield, while she
returned home.
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