His affection she repaid with
indifference. At present, the only person she appeared to really
like was the servant Sarah, a girl of vicious character.
Harriet had suffered more from Ida's blow than had at first appeared
likely. The wound would not heal well, and she had had several
feverish nights. For her convenience, the couch had been drawn up
between the fire and the table; and, reclining here, she every now
and then threw out a petulant word in reply to her father's or
Julian's well-meant cheerfulness. But for the boy, the gloomy
silence would seldom have been broken. He, however, was full
to-night of a favourite subject, and kept up a steady flow of bright
narrative. At school he was much engaged just now with the history
of Rome, and it was his greatest delight to tell the listeners at
home the glorious stories which were his latest acquisitions. All
to-day he had been reading Plutarch. The enthusiasm with which he
spoke of these old heroes and their deeds went beyond mere boyish
admiration of valour and delight in bloodshed; he seemed to be
strongly sensible of the real features of greatness in these men's
lives, and invested his stories with a glow of poetical colour which
found little appreciation in either of his hearers.
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