The Story of the White-Rock Cove | Page 7

trial. The darling of herself

and my father, and, as the only child, a favourite amongst the attached
members of our household, my wants had been all anticipated, and
every pleasure suited to my age had been planned for me so
ingeniously, that I had never had the chance of showing myself selfish
or ill-tempered. She feared that when for the first time I found myself
not first considered in all arrangements, I might fail in those particular
points of conduct in which she was most anxious I should triumph.
My mother's gentle admonitions, to which I at the time paid little heed,
were interrupted by the luncheon gong.
"When will the wonderful preparations at the gate be ready?" asked my
father whilst we were at table.
"Oh, there's nothing left to do but to fasten up the flowers. Old George
says it won't take an hour," I replied.
"Then if I come down at three o'clock the show will be ready?"
"Quite ready," I said. "And mamma will come too?"
"Of course mamma's coming too; unless, indeed, you mean to charge
so high a price for the exhibition," said my father comically, "that I
cannot afford it. But even then," he added, "mamma shall see it; I'll
give it up for her."
I was off from the luncheon-table as soon as possible, but found nurse
lying in wait to capture me and enforce upon my mind the first duty of
returning by four o'clock, to be dressed properly before the arrival of
our visitors, whose impression of me, she conceived, would be most
unfavourable were they to find me in what she was pleased to call "this
trumpery," referring to a little sailor's suit of white and blue in which I
was very generally attired, and which nurse chose to disapprove. She
wound up her admonition by a sort of lament over my light-mindedness
as to my best clothes; a spirit which, she remarked, was apt to cling to
people to their graves--sometimes afterwards; which I scarcely thought
possible.

Frisk and I darted down the Zig-zag at our usual pace, so soon as I was
released from nurse's kind offices, and joined old George, who was on
the look-out for us.
Very pleased we were with the result of our exertions when the really
pretty triumphal arch was completed; the letters of the word Welcome
in conspicuously gay flowers forming a pretty contrast to the leafy
background, and eliciting what we felt to be a well-merited admiration
from my parents and a select committee of servants, who came
severally to inspect our handiwork in the course of the afternoon.
"It's fit for Her Majesty," said my father in his playful way, "and far too
fine for a little stranger boy! In fact, it seems scarcely proper that a
humble individual like myself should pass under it!"
"You're not a humble individual, papa!" I exclaimed vehemently.
"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" sighed my father, "that it should come to such a
pass as this; my only son tells me I am wanting in humility--not a
humble person!"
"An individual!" I said, feeling that made a great difference. "But now,
papa, you're only in fun; you know I didn't mean that."
"One thing I do mean very distinctly, Willie, which is, that I must not
stay chattering here with you any longer, or my letters will never be
ready before post-time. You may stay a little longer with George if you
like."
I stayed accordingly, determining to be home by the Zig-zag at the
appointed hour.
But my parents had scarcely had the time necessary for walking up to
the house, when the sharp sound of horses' trot suddenly aroused my
attention, and in another moment our carriage, with the travellers inside,
was rounding the curve of the road, and had drawn up before the gate.
My confusion and shyness at thus being surprised were indescribable;

and a latent desire to take to immediate flight and get home the short
way might probably have prevailed, had not my uncle's quick eye
caught sight of me as I drew back under the shelter of old George.
"Why, surely there must be Willie!" he exclaimed; and in another
moment Groves had hoisted my unwilling self on to the step of the
carriage, and was introducing me to my relations, regardless of my shy
desire to stand upon the ground, and make geological researches with
my eyes under the wheels.
"Yes, sir, this is Master Willie; he's been uncommon taken up with the
other young master coming, and it's his thought having a bit of
something [To think of old George designating our beautiful arch as a
bit of something!] put up at the gate to bid him welcome."
"There's for you, Aleck," said my uncle to a