library as if he had never ceased to be that true freeman, A MAN
OF CHAMBERS.

The young Vivian had not, by the cares which fathers are always heirs
to, yet reminded his parent that children were anything else but
playthings. The intercourse between father and son was, of course,
extremely limited; for Vivian was, as yet, the mother's child; Mr.
Grey's parental duties being confined to giving his son a daily glass of
claret, pulling his ears with all the awkwardness of literary affection,
and trusting to God "that the urchin would never scribble."

"I won't go to school, mamma," bawled Vivian.

"But you must, my love," answered Mrs. Grey; "all good boys go to
school;" and in the plenitude of a mother's love she tried to make her
offspring's hair curl.

"I won't have my hair curl, mamma; the boys will laugh at me," rebawled
the beauty.

"Now who could have told the child that?" monologised mamma, with all a
mamma's admiration.

"Charles Appleyard told me so; his hair curled, and the boys called him
girl. Papa! give me some more claret; I won't go to school."




CHAPTER II