The Professor

tnessed my first introduction to Crimsworth Hall. I was early up

rvals along the banks of the river, tall, cylindrical chimneys, almost like slender round towers, indicated the factories which the trees half concealed; here and there mansions, similar to Crimsworth Hall, occupied agreeable sites on the hill-side; the country wore, on the whole, a cheerful,

t to feel, when he sees laid before him the scene of his life’s career — I said to myself, “William, you are a rebel against circumstances; you are a fool, and know not what you want; you have chosen trade and you

the air of a master who seizes a pretext to escape the bore of conversing with an underling. It was well I had taken a resolution to endure for a time, or his manner would have gone far to render insupportable the disgust I had just been endeavouring to subdue. I looked at him: I measured his robust frame and powerful proportions; I saw my own reflection in the mirror over the mantel-piece; I amused myself with comparing the two pictures. In face I resembled him, though I was not so hands

ning in morning and bridal freshness. I addressed her with the degree of ease her last night’s careless gaiety seemed to war

d rate along the road. The horse he drove was the same vicious animal about which Mrs. Crimsworth had expressed her fears the night before. Once or twice Jack seemed disposed to turn restive, but a vigorous and determined application of the whip from the

vering through its thick brick walls with the commotion of its iron bowels. Workpeople were passing to and fro; a waggon was being laden with pieces. Mr. Crimsworth looked from side to side, and seemed at one glance to comprehend all that was going on; he alighted, and leaving his horse and gig to the care of a man who hastened to take the reins from his hand, he bid me follow him to the

tosh, sat down by the fire. I remained st

e some business to transact with this gen

d sat a moment thinking, his lips compressed, his brow knit. I had nothing to do but to watch him — how well his features were cut! what

me he began

to —— shire to lear

, I

mind on the point? Le

es

ualified for it. I will take you on trial. What can you do? Do you know anythin

tudied ma

dare say

nd write Fren

pening a drawer in a desk near him t

ead that?”

ted it; I could not tell whether he was grat

inued, raising his voice, “hear once for all what I have to say about our relationship, and all that sort of humbug! I must have no nonsense on that point; it would never suit me. I shall excuse you nothing on the plea of being my brother; if I find you stupid, negligent, dissipated, idle, or possessed of any faults detrimental

ot to expect favour from you, and not to depend on you for any help but what I e

consult his face to learn his opinion: what it was I do not know, n

wever, to be aware that such an arrangement would be quite inconvenient to me. I like to have the seat in my gig at liberty for

dow, I walked ba

n X—— ” I answered. “It would not suit

Crimsworth’s blue eye became incensed; he took his

how do you expect to live till yo

get on,

to live?” he repeat

, Mr. Cri

avagant aristocratic habits: if you have, drop them; I tolerate nothing of the sort here, a

h, you will find I

o things are certain. I am capable of performing the work Mr. Crimsworth has set me; I can earn my wages conscientiously, and those wages are sufficient to enable me to live. As to the fact of my brother assuming towards me the bearing of a proud, harsh master, the fault is his, not mine; and shall his injustice, his bad feeling, turn me at once aside

letters from Voss, Brothers, and give him Englis

time as I wrote. I thought he was trying to read my character, but I felt as secure against his scrutiny as if I had had on a casque with the visor down-or rather I showed him my countenance with the confidence that one would show an unlearned man a letter written in Greek; he might see lines, and trace characters, but he could make nothing of them; my nature was not his nature, and its signs were to him like the words o