pillow, shivering audibly, and actually crying. She was aghast.

The boys with whom she had been brought up, would never have given
way so entirely without resistance; but between laughing, cheering,
scolding, covering him up close, and rubbing his hands with her own,
she comforted him, so that he could be grateful and cheerful when his
father himself came up with the soup. Albinia noticed a sort of
shudder pass over Mr. Kendal as he entered, and he stood close by
Gilbert, turning his back on everything else, while he watched the
boy eat the soup, as if restored by every spoonful. 'That was a good
thought,' was his comment to his wife, and the look of gratitude
brought a flush of pleasure into her cheek.


Of all the dinners, this was the most pleasant; he was more gentle
and affectionate, and she made him tell her about the Persian poets,
and promise to show her some specimens of the Rose Garden of Saadi--she
had never before been so near having his pursuits opened to her.

'What a favourite Gilbert is!' Lucy said to Sophia, as Albinia
lighted a candle and went up to his room.

'He makes such a fuss,' said Sophy. 'What is there in being wet
through to cry about?'

Albinia heard a little shuffle as she opened the door, and Gilbert
pushed a book under his pillow. She asked him what he had been
reading. 'Oh,' he said, 'he had not been doing it long, for the
flickering of the candle hurt his eyes.'