Fan was scared by the ghastly ludicrousness and grievous pathos of the story, and by the degree to which Oliver was moved in telling it. She had never seen him in his grief for the loss of their father betray so much emotion as he did now, when he grew pale in the moonlight with the violence of his anger, and clenched his teeth in the height of his reprobation and disgust. ‘It was very cruel, very ungenerous,’ said Fan, with a kind of shivering recoil. She crept close to her brother and clasped his arm with her two hands, clinging to him. ‘They never treated you so, dear?’ she asked with a gasp, as if seeking to reassure herself. ‘Not they,’ he said with an awkward laugh, half ashamed of his excitement. ‘My college was not quite so exclusive, and I trust I was made of sterner stuff. If the men had chaffed me with a miff-wheel or a rolling-pin, I should have replied, Yes, these were my arms, and I did not see that something might not be said for them as well as for a pair of wild men of the woods, a Moor’s head, a pirate’s ship, or an assassin’s dagger. The gist of the matter is that if I lost some of my ideals at Oxford I found others to replace them. Let us be thankful. Come along, Fan; the dew has done falling, indeed, but I am keeping you out far too late with only that rag of a handkerchief over your head.’ CHAPTER VI. LOUISA AND CATHERINE HILLIARD. ‘YOUR settling down here as a tradesman, Oliver, will be a nice story for Mrs. Hilliard and Catherine,’ said Fan Constable, tartly, over the breakfast-table next morning. For Fan was by no means permanently converted, however touched for the moment, by the last evening’s conversation. Oliver shook himself with some vigour, but the gesture was so common with him as not necessarily to imply any special depth of feeling stirred by the observation; however, his colour rose as he spoke in answer. ‘What will Mrs. Hilliard and Catherine make of it? what can it be to them? At the same time Mrs. Hilliard puts little weight on social distinctions; you must do her the justice to grant that, Fan,’ he said, looking straight across the table to his sister, and speaking with a degree of emphasis which implied that, in his opinion, Fan was not in the habit of judging righteous judgment where Mrs. Hilliard was concerned. ‘As for Catherine,’ he added, after a moment’s pause, ‘I imagine she is too much in the clouds, as usual, to take much notice of what happens on the common earth.’ He said the words with an attempt at carelessness, but in reality he spoke with an effort, stiffly.