Each had said bitter things to the other; and, if the brotherly affection had not been so true between Osborne and Roger, they too might have become alienated, in consequence of the squire's exaggerated and injudicious comparison of their characters and deeds.But as Roger in his boyhood had loved Osborne too well to be jealous of the praise and love the eldest son, the beautiful brilliant lad, had received, to the disparagement of his own plain awkwardness and slowness, so now Osborne strove against any feeling of envy or jealousy with all his might; but his efforts were conscious, Roger's had been the simple consequence of affection, and the end to poor Osborne was that he became moody and depressed in mind and body; but both father and son concealed their feelings in Roger's presence.When he came home just before sailing, busy and happy, the squire caught his infectious energy, and Osborne looked up and was cheerful.There was no time to be lost.He was bound to a hot climate, and must take all advantage possible of the winter months.He was to go first to Paris, to have interviews with some of the scientific men there.Some of his outfit, instruments, &c., were to follow him to Havre, from which port he was to embark, after transacting his business in Paris.The squire, learnt all his arrangements and plans, and even tried in after-dinner conversations to penetrate into the questions involved in the researches his son was about to make.But Roger's visit home could not be prolonged beyond two days.The last day he rode into Hollingford earlier than he needed to have done to catch the London coach, in order to bid the Gibsons good-by.He had been too actively busy for some time to have leisure to bestow much thought on Cynthia; but there was no need for fresh meditation on that subject.
Her image as a prize to be worked for, to be served for seven years, and seven years more,' was safe and sacred in his heart.It was very bad, this going away, and wishing her good-by for two long years; and he wondered much during his ride how far he should be justified in telling her mother, perhaps in telling her own sweet self, what his feelings were without expecting, nay, indeed reprobating, any answer on her part.Then she would know at any rate how dearly she was beloved by one who was absent; how in all difficulties or dangers the thought of her would be a polar star, high up in the heavens, and so on, and so on; for with all a lover's quickness of imagination and triteness of fancy, he called her a star, a flower, a nymph, a witch, an angel, or a mermaid, a nightingale, a siren, as one or another of her attributes rose up before him.
