Aunt Mary | Page 9

winter, and as they are very old and kind friends of hers, and our stay in town will be short, we set off yesterday morning to call upon them. Unfortunately, the two nice little girls were out, so we did not see them, though I hope we shall do so before we leave London. After leaving Mr. Maitland's, we strolled towards the Regent's Park; and when we had pretty well tired ourselves, we made towards a pleasant seat under the shade of a magnificent tree. A party of young ladies were just leaving the spot which we had selected, but as they were intently looking on the ground, with their backs towards us, they, I suppose, did not notice our approach; nor could we, at the distance we were, recognise them.
'"In this pleasant spot we remained for some time, and on rising to go, my wife saw just at her foot, though it was partially hidden by a tuft of grass, the valuable brooch which I have just had the pleasure to restore to you, and which it was our intention to place in your hands at your own home, had we not thus accidentally met you. Very glad indeed I am that we should have come upon the track of the young ladies, who could be none other but the little Maitlands and your fair daughters. To-morrow, I hope to bring my wife to Camden Terrace, and to introduce her to your good lady as Mrs. Norton, instead of Laura Vernon."
'Now, my dear,' said Mr. Ellis, 'you have got your brooch, and its recent history. I strongly advise you to take more care of the one, and on no account to forget the other.'
'I will try to take your advice, my dear,' said the lady. 'I am so glad, so very glad, that my brooch is found.'
'And I am so sorry, so very sorry, Ada,' said Mr. Ellis, 'that we have a daughter so prone to the detestable vices of pride, vanity, and deceit!'
'Oh, don't be too hard upon poor Mabel, dear,' said her mamma; 'she is very young. You must forgive this childish trick.'
'Trick!' said Mr. Ellis, bitterly--'yes, you have given it a right name, Ada; but I hate tricks.'
CHAPTER VI.
A FRIENDLY PROPOSITION.
The morning after the foregoing occurrence found Mabel very dull, and very captious. She was of course glad to know that the brooch had been found, but very uneasy at the manner of finding it. She was not, in truth, sorry for the fault that she had committed, but her proud spirit chafed at the idea of being talked about in the Maitland family, especially as she knew that a young cousin of theirs, Harry Maitland, was expected to pay them a visit on this very day, when the whole affair was sure to be canvassed.
But we will leave Mabel to her own uneasy thoughts, and look in at the pleasant family party assembled in the breakfast-room of the Laurels, as Mr. Maitland's residence was designated. This villa, as we know, adjoined that of Aunt Mary, who at this time was on a visit with her niece Clara to that young lady's widowed mother, Mrs. Beaumont. Cousin Harry had arrived, and made one of the happy group, who were sitting, books and work in hand, for they were never idle, enjoying the fresh pure air of the morning, and the delicious smell of flowers, of which there was a profusion both outside and in. The garden, indeed, was resplendent with variety and beauty of colouring, softly shaded down by the laurels, which gave their name to the villa.
Mr. Maitland had been reading a book of travels, and he was now descanting on the uses and properties of the Eucalyptus, or blue gum-tree of Australia, which is said to grow as much in seven years, as an oak will grow in twenty; attains sometimes the height of three and four hundred feet, drains the ground, attracts rain, prevents malaria, etc.
'But do you really believe, sir, all that is written about this wonderful tree?' inquired Harry Maitland, who had been making a sketch of the said tree, from the description which his uncle had been reading to them.
'Certainly, I do believe all that is stated of it,' replied Mr. Maitland. 'Why should I doubt well-accredited writers and eye-witnesses? The most extraordinary fact respecting it is, its health-diffusing properties, which, as I read, makes me wonder why strenuous efforts have not been made for its cultivation in England. I know there have been, and there are, some efforts made, but not on an extensive scale. There are some young trees in the Kew Gardens, which, before you leave us, Harry, I hope we shall go to see.'
Just as Mr. Maitland was beginning to read again, he was interrupted by