"He is too clever himself to see how other people can be slow," said
Margaret; "and yet"--the tears came into her eyes--"I cannot bear to
think of his telling Richard it was no use to think of being a
clergyman, and he had better turn carpenter at once, just because he
failed in his examination."

"My dear, I wish you would forget that," said Mrs. May. "You know
papa sometimes says more than he means, and he was excessively vexed
and disappointed. I know he was pleased with Ritchie's resolve not
to come home again till he had passed, and it is best that it should
not be broken."

"The whole vacation, studying so hard, and this christening!" said
Margaret; "it is treating him as if he had done wrong. I do believe
Mr. Ernescliffe thinks he has--for papa always turns away the
conversation if his name is mentioned! I wish you would explain it,
mamma; I can't bear that."

"If I can," said Mrs. May, rather pleased that Margaret had taken on
herself this vindication of her favourite brother her father's
expense. "But, after all, Margaret, I never feel quite sure that
poor Ritchie does exert himself to the utmost, he is too desponding
to make the most of himself."

"And the more vexed papa is, the worse it grows!" said Margaret.
"It is provoking, though. How I do wish sometimes to give Ritchie a
jog, when there is some stumbling-block that he sticks fast at.
Don't you remember those sums, and those declensions? When he is so
clear and sensible about practical matters too--anything but
learning--I cannot think why--and it is very mortifying!"