Probable Sons | Page 3

greater part of the year in seclusion, occupying himself with looking after his estate and writing articles for several of the leading reviews of the day.
The advent of his small niece was indeed a great trial to him, but, with his characteristic thoroughness, he determined that he would make the necessary arrangements for her comfort. Accordingly he had a long interview with her nurse the following morning. It proved to be satisfactory. The nurse was a staid, elderly woman, who assured him she was accustomed to the sole charge of the child, and would keep her entirely under her own control.
"I expect you would like her to be sent down to you in the evening--at dessert, perhaps, sir?" she inquired.
Sir Edward pulled the ends of his moustache dubiously. "Is it necessary? I thought children ought to be in bed at that time."
"Of course it shall be as you like, sir. You do not dine so late as some do. I thought you would expect to see her once in the day."
After a little hesitation Sir Edward gave his permission; and when he found that Milly neither screamed nor snatched for the fruit on the table, and did not herself engross the whole conversation, he became quite reconciled to the little white figure stealing in and occupying the chair that was always placed at his left-hand side for her.
Beyond this he saw very little of her while his guests were with him; but afterwards, when they had all left him, and he relapsed into his ordinary life, he was constantly coming across her. Sometimes he would find her in the stables, her arms round the stable cat, and the grooms holding a voluble conversation with her, or among the cows at the bottom of the paddock, or feeding the pigs and fowls in the poultry yard. Generally she was attended by Fritz, a beautiful collie, who had, with the fickleness of his nature, transferred his affection from his master to her, and though uncertain in temper towards most, was never anything but amiable when with the little girl.
Her uncle's form approaching was quite a sufficient hint to her to make herself scarce. She would generally anticipate the usual formula: "Now run away child, to nurse," by singing out cheerfully: "I am just off, uncle," and by the time he had reached the spot where she was standing the little figure would be running off in the distance, Fritz close at her heels.
One afternoon Sir Edward was returning from a stroll up the avenue when he saw the child at play among the trees, and for a moment he paused and watched her. She appeared to be very busy with a doll wrapped in a fur rug which she carefully deposited at the foot of the tree; then for some minutes she and Fritz seemed to be having a kind of a game of hide and seek with one another, until she pushed him into a bush and commanded him to stay there. Suddenly dog and child darted at each other, and then, to Sir Edward's amazement, he saw his little niece seize Fritz by the throat and bring him to the ground. When both were rolling over one another, and Fritz's short, sharp barks became rather indignant in tone, as he vainly tried to escape from the little hands so tightly round him, Sir Edward thought it high time to interfere.
"Millicent," he called out sharply, "come to me at once; what are you doing?"
In an instant Milly was upon her feet, and lifting a hot flushed little face to his, she placed herself in her favorite attitude when in his presence; her hands clasped behind her back, and feet closely planted together.
"Don't you know Fritz might bite if you are so rough with him? Were you trying to choke him?" demanded her uncle.
"Yes," she responded, breathless from her late exertions, "I was trying to kill him! He's a bear, and that's my lamb, and I am David; that's all."
A child's games were beyond Sir Edward's comprehension. He looked down upon her with a knitted brow.
She continued--
"You see, he has to do for both, a bear and a lion, for they both came, and they both tried to get the lamb. Nurse was the lion one day, but she is too big; I can't knock her down, though I try hard."
"I will not have Fritz knocked down in that fashion. He might hurt you," said Sir Edward, sternly.
Milly looked sorrowful; then brightening up, she asked--
"But I may kill Goliath, mayn't I? Do you know that is one of my games. See, I'm David, and you see that big old tree standing by itself? That's Goliath. He is looking at me now. Do you see where his eyes come? Just up there in