" Presently it became very evident that "poor Peter" got
himself into many scrapes. There were letters of stilted penitence
to his father, for some wrong-doing; and among them all was a
badly-written, badly-sealed, badly-directed, blotted note:- "My
dear, dear, dear, dearest mother, I will be a better boy; I will,
indeed; but don't, please, be ill for me; I am not worth it; but I
will be good, darling mother."
Miss Matty could not speak for crying, after she had read this
note. She gave it to me in silence, and then got up and took it to
her sacred recesses in her own room, for fear, by any chance, it
might get burnt. "Poor Peter!" she said; "he was always in
scrapes; he was too easy. They led him wrong, and then left him in
the lurch. But he was too fond of mischief. He could never resist
a joke. Poor Peter!"
CHAPTER VI--POOR PETER
Poor Peter's career lay before him rather pleasantly mapped out by
kind friends, but Bonus Bernardus non videt omnia, in this map too.
He was to win honours at the Shrewsbury School, and carry them
thick to Cambridge, and after that, a living awaited him, the gift
of his godfather, Sir Peter Arley. Poor Peter! his lot in life was
very different to what his friends had hoped and planned. Miss
Matty told me all about it, and I think it was a relief when she
had done so.
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