Ernest coloured, yet encouraged himself by remembering that there is nothing but guilt which need cause us shame, and that we should blush for no situation in which Heaven has placed us. “I would wish, if you consent, to bring the boys here,” resumed he, “and place them under care of the gardener.” “An extraordinary wish,” replied Mr. Hope, taking snuff. “Is it possible that this is really your desire?” “I am most anxious for your leave to do it,” said Ernest. “Oh, of course, if you have no objection, I can have none; this is your own property, and it is only reasonable that you should have a voice in choosing your dependants. But all that I can say is, that I believe that you’ll repent it, and the young rogues would be better in the poor-house.” Ernest left his uncle’s presence rather in spirits, from having accomplished his object more easily than he had expected. He cheerfully pursued his studies with Charles, under the tuition of Mr. Ewart; and the consideration which they showed—never laughing at his mistakes, ever ready to help him to understand what was new to him—still further endeared them both to the boy. After luncheon, feeling a little more at his ease, as Mrs. Hope sat busy at her writing-desk, and her husband was not in the room, Ernest amused himself with his pretty little cousin, Clementina, in looking over a large volume of prints. “What a pity that she is so affected!” thought he; “she would be so charming if she did not think herself so.” On a sudden Ernest jumped up with an exclamation of pleasure, as he saw from the window a little open carriage approaching through the park. “Oh, I’m so glad!—there are good, kind Mr. and Miss Searle; it will be such a pleasure to see them!” “The old horrors!” exclaimed Clementina, leaning back on her cushions, and lifting her hands in affected alarm. “The Searles!” cried Mrs. Hope, looking up hastily. “We’re not at home to them. I’m surprised at their coming. People like them never know their proper place. I must request, Ernest,” she continued, seeing him about to leave the room, “that you’ll not bring such company about the castle. When you are of age, of course, you’ll do what you please; but while I and my daughter remain under this roof, I must be careful not to expose her to vulgar society. Mr. Searle’s father kept a shop in Cheapside!” “Vulgar!” thought Ernest, “some of the excellent of the earth! The Lord’s jewels, at whose feet we may one day be thankful to be found! Is this castle too grand, its inhabitants too good, for those whose home will be heaven, whose companions the angels?”