Its nothing, aunt; see, theyve stopped. Its all right, Uncle Giles is laughing.
Go! go! cried the old lady, pointing passionately to the door.
Go, for goodness gracious sake, Mrs. Osborne. My lady will have a fit.
There is nothing absolutely nothing, aunt. Theyve stopped. Dunning has taken his place again; theres no need for interfering. Ah! Margaret gave just such a cry as Lady Piercey had done, and flinging down her little sheaf of silks upon the frame, turned and flew from the room, leaving the old lady and her maid exchanging glances of consternation. And yet the cause of Mrs. Osbornes sudden change of opinion was not far to seek; it was that Gervase had seized little Osy and swung him up to his shoulder, where the child sat very red and uneasy, but too proud to acknowledge that he was afraid.
Put down my child this moment! cried Margaret, descending like a thunderbolt in the midst of the group.
Hes as right as a trivet. Im going to give him a ride. I havent given him a ride for a long time. Hi! Osy, aint you as right as a trivet, and got a good seat?
Yes, tousin Gervase, said the boy with a quaver in his voice, but holding his head high.
Put him down this moment! cried Margaret, stamping her foot and seizing Gervase by the arm.
Ill put him down when hes had his ride. Now, old Dunning, heres for it. Well race you for a sovereign to the gate. Sit tight, Osy, or your horse will throw you hes as wild as all the wild horses that ever were made.
Div me my whip first, cried the child. He was elated though he was afraid. And I wont ride you if you havent a bit in your mouff.
Once more the little grimy pocket-handkerchief was brought into service. Heres the bit, and Im holding you in hand. Now, trot!
Margaret stood like a ghost, while the wild pair darted along the avenue, Gervase prancing with the most violent motion, little Osy sitting very tight, holding on to his handkerchief with the tightness of desperation, his cheeks blazing and throbbing with the tumultuous colour of courage, excitement, and fright. They are things which consist with each other. The child was afraid of nothing, but very conscious that he had once before been thrown from Gervases shoulder, and that the prospect was not a pleasant one. As for the spectators, Sir Giles in his chair and his wife at the window, they were in a ferment of mingled feeling, afraid for their pet, but excited by this new development on the part of their son. Mr. Gervase is really taking great care, gasped Lady Piercey to her maid. Dont you see? Hes got the child quite tight not like that other time; Master Osy is quite enjoying it.
Oh yes, my lady, said Parsons, doubtfully; hes got such a spirit.
And his cousin is so kind, so kind. Theres nobody, said the old lady, with a sob and a gasp, so good to children as my Gervase. There! thank Heaven, hes put him down. Miss Meg I mean Mrs. Osborne is making a ridiculous fuss about it, said Lady Piercey, now running all her words into one in the relief of her feelings, as if there was any fear of the child!
Little Osy had swung down through the air with a sinking whirl as if he had shot Niagara, but once on firm ground, being really none the worse, tingled to his fingers ends with pride and triumph. He gave a smack of his little whip with his right hand, while with the other he clutched his mothers dress, trembling and glowing. Dood-bye, dood horse; Ill Ill wide you again another time, he shouted, with a slight quaver in his voice.
Sir Giles was half-weeping, half-laughing, in the excitement of his age and weakness. Now that the child was safe, he, too, was delighted and proud. Goodun to go, aint he, Osy? he cried. But I say, lad, you oughtnt to caper like that; hes a deal too fresh, Dunning, eh? wants to have it taken out of him.
Yes, Sir Giles, said Dunning. (And Id just like to take it out of him with a cart whip, he murmured, between his closed teeth.)
Lady Piercey was weeping a little, too, at her window, calming down from her excitement. How strong he is, bless him, and well-made when he holds himself straight; and wouldnt harm the child not for the world, or any one that trusts him. Oh, Parsons, what a joyful family wed be if Master Osy had been my sons boy!
Bless you, my lady, hes too young to have a boy as big as that.
So he is, the dear. If I could live to see him with an heir, Parsons!
And why not, my lady? Youre not to call old, and with proper care and taking your medicines regular one of these days hell be bringing home some nice young lady. (Some poor creature as will be forced to take im, or else Patty of the Seven Thorns, was Parsons comment within herself.)
And then that poor little darling! said Lady Piercey, regretfully. But, she added with a firmer tone, Meg spoils the boy to such a degree that hell be ruined before hes a man. Look at her petting him as if hed been in any danger; but she never had an ounce of sense. Get me my things, Parsons; Ill go down and sit in the air a bit and talk to my boy.