Thoroughly well, in the highest sense of the term, had the Channings
been reared. Not of their own wisdom had Mr. and Mrs. Channing trained
their children.
"What's the matter, sir?" asked Hamish, smoothing his brow, and
suffering the hopeful smile to return to his lips. "Judith says some
outrageous luck has arrived; come express, by post."
"Joke while you may, Hamish," interposed Mrs. Channing, in a low voice;
"I shrink from telling it you. Can you not guess the news?"
Hamish looked round at each, individually, with his sunny smile, and
then let it rest upon his mother. "The very worst I can guess is not so
bad. We are all here in our accustomed health. Had we sent Annabel up
in that new balloon they are advertising, I might fancy it had capsized
with her--as it _will_ some day. Annabel, never you be persuaded to
mount the air in that fashion."
"Hamish! Hamish!" gently reproved Mrs. Channing. But perhaps she
discerned the motive which actuated him. Annabel clapped her hands. She
would have thought it great fun to go up in a balloon.
"Well, mother, the worst tidings that the whole world could bring upon
us cannot, I say, be very dreadful, while we can discuss them as we are
doing now," said Hamish. "I suppose the Lord Chancellor has pronounced
against us?"
"Irrevocably. The suit is for ever at an end, and we have lost it."
"Hamish is right," interrupted Mr. Channing. "When the letter arrived,
I was for a short time overwhelmed.
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