“How very dreadful!” said Mrs. Morris calmly. “Shocking treatment! for a distinguished officer too!” “Dreadful fellow he must be,” said the boy. “What a rare fright he must have given my old guardian! But the end of it all is, I 'm to leave Alfred, and go back to England at once. I wish I was going to sea again; I wish I was off thousands of miles away, and not to come home for years. To part with the kind, good fellow, that was like a brother to me, this way,--how can I do it? And do you perceive, he has n't one word to say against Alfred? It's only that he has the misfortune of this terrible father. And, after all, might not that be any one's lot? You might have a father you couldn't help being ashamed of.” “Of course,” said she; “I can fancy such a case easily enough.” “I know it will nearly kill poor Alfred; he 'll not be able to bear it. He's as proud as he is clever, and he'll not endure the tone of the Earl's letter. Who knows what he 'll do? Can _you_ guess?” “'Not in the least. I imagine that he 'll submit as patiently as he can, and look out for another situation.” “Ah, there you don't know him!” broke in the boy: “he can't endure this kind of thing. He only consented to take me because his health was breaking up from hard reading; he wanted rest and a change of climate. At first he refused altogether, and only gave way when some of his college dons over-persuaded him.” She smiled a half-assent, but said nothing. “Then there's another point,” said he, suddenly: “I'm sure his Lordship has not been very measured in the terms of his letter to him. I can just fancy the tone of it; and I don't know how poor Alfred is to bear that.” “My dear boy, you'll learn one of these days--and the knowledge will come not the less soon from your being a Peer--that all the world is either forbearing or overbearing. You must be wolf or lamb: there's no help for it.” “Alfred never told me so,” said he, sternly. “It's more than likely that he did not know! There are no men know less of life than these college creatures; and there lies the great mistake in selecting such men for tutors for our present-day life and its accidents. Alexandre Dumas would be a safer guide than Herodotus; and Thackeray teach you much more than Socrates.” “If I only had in my head one-half of what Alfred knew, I 'd be well satisfied,” said the boy. “Ay, and what's better still, without his thinking a bit about it.” “And so,” said she, musingly, “you are to go back to England?” “That does not seem quite settled, for he says, in a postscript, that Sir George Rivers, one of the Cabinet, I believe, has mentioned some gentleman, a 'member of their party,' now in Italy, and who would probably consent to take charge of me till some further arrangements could be come to.”