“A few minutes afterwards a knock at the door
was heard, and the monthly nurse entered. She
held something in her embrace; but he could not see
what. He looked down pryingly into her arms, and
at the first glance thought that it was his umbrella.
But then he heard a little pipe, and he knew that
it was his child.
“We will not intrude further on the first interview
between Macassar and his heir.”
* * * *
*
‘And so ends the romantic history of “Crinoline
and Macassar",’ said Mrs. Woodward; ’and
I am sure, Charley, we are all very much obliged to
you for the excellent moral lessons you have given
us.’
‘I’m so delighted with it,’ said
Katie; ’I do so like that Macassar.’
‘So do I,’ said Linda, yawning; ’and
the old man with the thin grey hair.’
‘Come, girls, it’s nearly one o’clock,
and we’ll go to bed,’ said the mother.
‘Uncle Bat has been asleep these two hours.’
And so they went off to their respective chambers.
SURBITON COLLOQUIES
All further conversation in the drawing-room was forbidden
for that night. Mrs. Woodward would have willingly
postponed the reading of Charley’s story so
as to enable Katie to go to bed after the accident,
had she been able to do so. But she was not able
to do so without an exercise of a species of authority
which was distasteful to her, and which was very seldom
heard, seen, or felt within the limits of Surbiton
Cottage. It would moreover have been very ungracious
to snub Charley’s manuscript, just when Charley
had made himself such a hero; and she had, therefore,
been obliged to read it. But now that it was done,
she hurried Katie off to bed, not without many admonitions.
‘Good night,’ she said to Charley; ’and
God bless you, and make you always as happy as we
are now. What a household we should have had
to-night, had it not been for you!’
Charley rubbed his eyes with his hand, and muttered
something about there not having been the slightest
danger in the world.
‘And remember, Charley,’ she said, paying
no attention to his mutterings, ’we always liked
you—liked you very much; but liking and
loving are very different things. Now you are
a dear, dear friend—one of the dearest.’
In answer to this, Charley was not even able to mutter;
so he went his way to the inn, and lay awake half
the night thinking how Katie had kissed his hand:
during the other half he dreamt, first that Katie
was drowned, and then that Norah was his bride.
Linda and Katie had been so hurried off, that they
had only been just able to shake hands with Harry
and Charley. There is, however, an old proverb,
that though one man may lead a horse to water, a thousand
cannot make him drink. It was easy to send Katie
to bed, but very difficult to prevent her talking when
she was there.
