Gervase had fallen out of his unusual liveliness before his mother succeeded in reaching the beech avenue, but he came forward at her call, and permitted her to take his arm. I like to see you in spirits, the old lady said, but you mustnt shake about your father like that. Dunnings safest for an old man.
Ill drive you out in the phaeton, mother, if you like, this afternoon.
No, my dear; I feel safest in the big carriage with the cobs, and old Andrews; but its a pleasure to see you in such spirits, Gervase; youre like my own old boy.
You see, said Gervase, with his imbecile, good-humoured smile, Ive promised to do all I can to please you at home.
Ah! cried the old lady, and who might it be that made you promise that? and why?
Gervase broke into a laugh. Wouldnt you just like to know? he said.
CHAPTER VII
Hes a dood horse, said the little boy, when I sit tight. I have to sit vewey tight; but next time Ill get on hims both shoulders, and hold him like a real horse. Hes dot a too narrow back, and too far up from the ground.
But listen to me, Osy. It makes me too frightened. You mustnt ride him again.
Ill
not wide him if I can help it, said Osy, reddening with mingled daring and terror, but he takes me up before I can det far enough off, and I tant run away, mamma.
But you must run away, Osy, when I tell you.
The child looked up at her doubtfully. It was you that told me gemplemens dont run away.
Not before an enemy, or that, said Margaret, taking refuge in the vague, but when its only for fun, Osy.
Fun isnt never serous, is it, mamma?
It would be very serious if you fell from that fo , from Cousin Gervases shoulder, Osy. Go out for a walk this afternoon, dear, with nurse.
I dont like nurse. I like Uncle Giles best. And Im the outwider, telling all the people hes toming.
You see Uncle Giles has got something else to do.
Gervase was still in the foreground of the picture, carrying out his consigne . The servant had brought out upon the terrace at the other side of the house a box containing a game of which, in former days, Sir Giles had been fond. It was Gervase who had proposed this diversion to-day. Ill play father a game at that spinner thing, he had said, after the large heavy luncheon, which was Sir Giles dinner. Id like that, lad, the old man cried with delight. It was a beautiful afternoon, and nothing could be more charming than the shady terrace on the east side of the house which in these hot July days was always cool. The sunshine played on the roof of the tall house, and fell full on the turf and the shrubs, and the flower garden at the south corner, but on the terrace all was grateful shade. The game was brought out, and many experiments were made to see at what angle Sir Giles could best throw the ball with which it was played an experiment in which Dunning took more or less interest, seeing it saved him another weary promenade through the grounds, pushing his masters chair. The carriage was waiting round the corner, and Lady Piercey came sailing downstairs with Parsons behind her carrying a large cloak. Meg! do you know Im ready to go out? cried Lady Piercey, in the tone of that king who had once almost been made to wait. May I bring Osy, aunt? cried Margaret. No, was the peremptory answer. Ill go without you if you dont be quick.
And I dont want to go, mover, said Osy. Im doing to play with Uncle Giles.
Come along, little duffer, cried Gervase; Ill give you another ride when weve done playing.
Meg, come this moment! cried Lady Piercey; and Margaret, with agonised visions, was compelled to go. Bitter is the bread of those who have to run up and down another mans stairs, and be as the dogs under his table. Oh! Margaret Osborne said to herself, if I had but the smallest cottage of my own! If I could but take in needlework or clear starching, and work for my boy! Perhaps the time might come when that prayer should be fulfilled, and when it would not seem so sweet as she thought.
Lady Piercey took her usual drive in a long round through the familiar roads which she had traversed almost every day for the last thirty years. She knew not only every village, but every cottage in every village, and every tree, and every clump of wild honeysuckle or clematis flaunting high upon the tops of the hedges. By dint of long use, she had come to make that frequent, almost daily, progress without seeing anything, refreshed, it is to be supposed, by the sweep of the wide atmosphere and all the little breezes that woke and breathed about her as she went over long miles and miles of green country, all monotonously familiar and awakening no sensation in her accustomed breast. She thought of her own affairs as she made these daily rounds, which many a poorer woman envied the old lady, thinking how pleasant it would be to change with her, and see the world from the luxurious point of vantage of a landau with a pair of good horses, and a fat coachman and agile footman on the box. But Lady Piercey thought of none of these advantages, nor of the beautiful country, nor the good air, but only of her own cares, which filled up all the foreground of her life, as they do with most of us. After a while, being forced by the concatenation of circumstances, she began to discuss these cares with Margaret, which was her custom when Parsons, who knew them all as well as her ladyship, was out of the way. Mrs. Osborne was made fully aware that it was because there was no one else near, that she was made the confidant of her aunts troubles; but she listened, nevertheless, very dutifully, though to-day with a somewhat distracted mind, thinking of her child, and seeing an awful vision before her of Osy tossed from Gervases shoulder and lying stunned on the ground, with nobody but Dunning and Sir Giles to look after him. This made her perhaps less attentive than usual to