, and a stormy gloom clouded her eyes as with a film. But before her
father her words were few, and he did not notice looks or tones.
    Her brother Richard had been equally silent before his father in boyhood and
early youth; but since he had gone to be a clerk in a London house, preparatory
to assuming his place as junior partner in Mr. Bradshaw's business, he spoke
more on his occasional visits at home. And very proper and highly moral was his
conversation; set sentences of goodness, which were like the flowers that
children stick in the ground, and that have not sprung upwards from roots - deep
down in the hidden life and experience of the heart. He was as severe a judge as
his father of other people's conduct, but you felt that Mr. Bradshaw was sincere
in his condemnation of all outward error and vice, and that he would try himself
by the same laws as he tried others; somehow, Richard's words were frequently
heard with a lurking distrust, and many shook their heads over the pattern son;
but then it was those whose sons had gone astray, and been condemned, in no
private or tender manner, by Mr. Bradshaw, so it might be revenge in them.
Still, Jemima felt that all was not right; her heart sympathised in the
rebellion against his father's commands, which her brother had confessed to her
in an unusual moment of confidence, but her uneasy conscience condemned the
deceit which he had practised.
    The brother and sister were sitting alone over a blazing Christmas fire, and
Jemima held an old newspaper in her hand to shield her face from the hot light.
They were talking of family events, when, during a pause, Jemima's eye caught
the name of a great actor, who had lately given prominence and life to a
character in one of Shakspeare's plays. The criticism in the paper was fine, and
warmed Jemima's heart.
    »How I should like to see a play!« exclaimed she.
    »Should you?« said her brother listlessly.
    »Yes, to be sure! Just hear this!« and she began to read a fine passage of
criticism.
    »Those newspaper people can make an article out of anything,« said he,
yawning. »I've seen the man myself, and it was all very well, but nothing to
make such a fuss about.«
    »You! you seen -! Have you seen a play, Richard? Oh, why did you never tell
me before? Tell me
