“Do you find Harry very much behind with his studies, Mr. Sutherland?”

“I have not yet attempted to find out,” replied Hugh.

“Not?” said Mr. Arnold, with surprise.

“No.  If he be behind, I feel confident it will not be for long.”

“But,” began Mr. Arnold, pompously; and then he paused.

“You were kind enough to say, Mr. Arnold, that I might try my own plans with him first.  I have been doing so.”

“Yes—­certainly.  But—­”

Here Harry broke in with some animation: 

“Mr. Sutherland has been my horse, carrying me about on his back all the morning—­no, not all the morning—­but an hour, or an hour and a half—­or was it two hours, Mr. Sutherland?”

“I really don’t know, Harry,” answered Hugh; “I don’t think it matters much.”

Harry seemed relieved, and went on: 

“He has been reading Gulliver’s Travels to me—­oh, such fall!  And we have been to see the cows and the pigs; and Mr. Sutherland has been teaching me to jump.  Do you know, papa, he jumped right over the pony’s back without touching it.”

Mr. Arnold stared at the boy with lustreless eyes and hanging checks.  These grew red, as if he were going to choke.  Such behaviour was quite inconsistent with the dignity of Arnstead and its tutor, who had been recommended to him as a thorough gentleman.  But for the present he said nothing; probably because he could think of nothing to say.

“Certainly Harry seems better already,” interposed Euphra.

“I cannot help thinking Mr. Sutherland has made a good beginning.”

Mr. Arnold did not reply, but the cloud wore away from his face by degrees; and at length he asked Hugh to take a glass of wine with him.

When Euphra rose from the table, and Harry followed her example, Hugh thought it better to rise as well.  Mr. Arnold seemed to hesitate whether or not to ask him to resume his seat and have a glass of claret.  Had he been a little wizened pedagogue, no doubt he would have insisted on his company, sure of acquiescence from him in every sentiment he might happen to utter.  But Hugh really looked so very much like a gentleman, and stated his own views, or adopted his own plans, with so much independence, that Mr. Arnold judged it safer to keep him at arm’s length for a season at least, till he should thoroughly understand his position—­not that of a guest, but that of his son’s tutor, belonging to the household of Arnstead only on approval.

On leaving the dining-room, Hugh hesitated, in his turn, whether to betake himself to his own room, or to accompany Euphra to the drawing-room, the door of which stood open on the opposite side of the hall, revealing a brightness and warmth, which the chill of the evening, and the lowness of the fire in the dining-room, rendered quite enticing.  But Euphra, who was half-across the hall, seeming to divine his thoughts, turned, and said, “Are you not going to favour us with your company, Mr. Sutherland?”