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Then Bob told him the news that he had been saving for next Sunday. “Come along to the Quarter-house with me and feed, and then we’ll go hunt Whiskers—I mean Mr. Whitney.” Emilia was at length released from the confinement she had so unjustly suffered. She had now the use of her old apartments, where, solitary and dejected, her hours moved heavily along, embittered by incessant anxiety for Julia, by regret for the lost society of madame. The marchioness, whose pleasures suffered a temporary suspense during the present confusion at the castle, exercised the ill-humoured caprice, which disappointment and lassitude inspired, upon her remaining subject. Emilia was condemned to suffer, and to endure without the privilege of complaining. In reviewing the events of the last few weeks, she saw those most dear to her banished, or imprisoned by the secret influence of a woman, every feature of whose character was exactly opposite to that of the amiable mother she had been appointed to succeed. But Bob would not go. He kept asking Mr. Whitney questions about the details of the work and the man had to answer. He saw in the boy’s enthusiasm something of the enthusiasm he himself had felt when he had joined the Service, and which he had never lost, in spite of the disappointments and hard knocks that had come his way. Finally, however, he insisted on breaking up the conversation. But before Bob left he said to him quite earnestly and seriously, “I have told you about the Service, Bob, and I want you to think pretty carefully about[31] it. If you once start, you will have a hard time breaking away. There are a lot of other things you can do which will bring you more money and more fame. This working for the Government, the extending of the territory of the country and increasing its value, gets into your blood and once it does you will never be fit for anything else. It is not too late to stop now if you want to. Good night, and let me know in the morning what you decide to do.”.
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It was a fine little boat. Johnny was captain and commanded grandly, giving many orders to the postmaster’s sons—those silly pipestems from Christiania, who did not know anything. And home was a good way off; first through the forest, then along the stone wall, and all across the Karine place, where everybody could see him. How disgusting! Where Eric was, or even which way he had gone in the woods, Johnny had no idea. “Indeed,” said Mother. “Our most popular author of books for little girls has this year forsaken them, and apparently gone over to the boys, since her book is about a boy; ... but I have yet to see the little girl who would not be glad to read of such a boy as Johnny Blossom.... Although a genuine boy, he is a right-minded little fellow with earnest childlike spirit; and he can never be thoroughly content until he has had his mother’s full forgiveness when he has been naughty, or, if he has wronged any one, until he has made restitution.”.
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