"Formerly, they used to make me cakes and all sort of good things to take to school when I was a boy; why, I wonder, are these, as well as many other good things, now denied me?" Eugene continued, laughing. "Because you do not deserve them, I suppose," playfully rejoined Mrs. de Burgh. "I suppose so," he answered rather quickly, a flush passing across his brow, whilst a slight glance was directed towards Mary, as if conscience suggested to his secret soul, one of those whispers which sometimes disturb the proud heart of man in his most careless moments. "How, then, are you deserving of this good, best thing you are about to appropriate to yourself?" Perhaps, too, for at the slightest word, "How many thoughts are stirred," his own careless question might suggest this one reply: "And where is she, the fond, the faithful, and unselfish administrator to the tastes and pleasures of your boyhood--your thoughtless, selfish, slighting boyhood?--that gentle, excellent being, prized too little on earth, too soon forgotten in death, to whom, alas! you too seldom had recourse but when other resources failed you--who gave and did all unrebukingly, looking for nothing in return--never wearying of doing you good?" "I think sometimes,"--are the words of gentle Charles Lamb--"could I recall the days that are gone, which amongst them should I choose? Not those 'merrier days' not 'the pleasant days of hope,' not those wanderings with a fair-haired maid, which I have so often and so feelingly regretted, but the days of a mother's fondness for her schoolboy. What would I give to call her back for _one_ day, on my knees to ask her pardon for all those little asperities of temper, which from time to time have given her gentle spirit pain." We do not know--we only imagine--we only hope that some such reflections might have suggested themselves to Trevor's mind, for they are those which, however unfrequently indulged--like the droppings on a stone, or as angel's visits, few and far between--cannot leave the heart less hard than the nether millstone--less unredeemable than the forsaken reprobate--quite uninfluenced by their softening power, and the careless words which almost uninterruptedly followed this under current of thought, no way militates against our hopes and wishes on that score--for it is by the careless, outward sign that the deep utterance of the heart is oftenest disguised. "Olivia," he continued, as he proceeded to cut the cake, "shall I give you some? No? Ah, I forgot, married ladies, I observe, seldom do eat cake;" and he sent round the plate to Mary, whilst Mr. Trevor, though he still kept his eye curiously fixed on the object of discussion, as if he could not yet quite reconcile to his mind the phenomenon of its production, was not ungratified to hear Mary praise it, and finally consented to taste a piece, in obedience to her recommendation; pronouncing himself perfectly satisfied with its merits, inasmuch--as it certainly was not too rich.