with the tray: a lecture from her mistress detained her there. Moore placed his hand a moment on his young cousin’s shoulder, stooped, and left a kiss on her forehead.
“Oh!” said she, as if the action had unsealed her lips, “I was miserable when I thought you would not come: I am almost too happy now. Are you happy, Robert? Do you like to come home?”
“I think I do; to-night, at least.”
“Are you certain you are not fretting about your frames, and your business, and the war?”
“Not just now.”
“Are you positive you don’t feel Hollow’s cottage too small for you, and narrow and dismal?”
“At this moment, no.”
“Can you affirm that you are not bitter at heart because rich and great people forget you?”
“No more questions. You are mistaken if you think I am anxious to curry favour with rich and great people. I only want means—a position—a career.”
“Which your own talent and goodness shall win you. You were made to be great—you shall be great.”
“I wonder now, if you spoke honestly out of your heart, what receipt you would give me for acquiring this same greatness; but I know it—better than you know it yourself. Would it be efficacious? would it work? Yes—poverty, misery, bankruptcy. Oh! life is not what you think it, Lina!”
