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Page 17
Here, in the long, oak-panelled dining-room were more roses,--
ropes and garlands of them, hanging in festoons along the dark,
shining panels, drooping from the Venetian lustres of the quaint
chandelier. Even the moose's head on the wall behind the Colonel's
chair had a wreath, cocked slightly on one side, which gave a
waggish look to the stately creature. The huge antlers spread
abroad, three feet on either side; the boys eyed the trophy with
wondering delight."
"Oh, I say, sir!" cried Gerald, "did you shoot that moose? I never
saw such a fellow. Why, Roger shot one last year that we thought
was the grandfather moose of the world, but he was a baby to this
one."
The Colonel smiled, well-pleased, and told the story of his
shooting the great moose.
"And who is Roger?" he asked, then. "Have you yet more treasures,
Mrs. Merryweather? Surely none old enough, to go moose-hunting?"
"Roger is not my own child, Colonel Ferrers," said Mrs.
Merryweather, smiling. "I always have to remind myself of the
fact, for he seems like my own. He is my husband's half-brother,
many years younger than he,--the dearest fellow in the world, and
really a delightful combination of son and brother. I hope he will
be here before long. And that reminds me,--have I made my
husband's apologies? I am so sorry he could not come!"
"I regret it heartily, my dear madam," said the Colonel, with a
courtly bow; and he recalled how Mr. Merryweather had confided to
him the other day that he drew the line at going out in the
evening, and would not exchange his own fireside for the King of
Dahomey's. He thought it probable that the excellent Miles was at
this moment sitting with pipe and newspaper on the back veranda of
his house; and if it had not been Hildegarde's birthday, the
Colonel might have wished himself beside him. As it was, however,
he devoted himself to his guests with such hearty good-will that
the tea-table soon rang with merry talk and laughter.
The high-tea itself was beyond praise; Mrs. Beadle had seen to
that. Mrs. Grahame's Auntie herself might have been jealous of the
jellied chicken; and salad was green and gold, and rolls were
snowy white, and strawberries glowed like sunset; and over all
were roses, roses, making the whole table a floral offering, as
Gerald said. Then, just before everybody had reached the "no more"
point, the good Guiseppe, who had been standing, stately, behind
his master's chair, darted out, and in a moment returned, bearing
on a huge silver salver,--what was it? Behind Guiseppe was seen
the portly form of good Mrs. Beadle, beaming under her best cap;
Guiseppe's own face was one broad, dark smile. A general chorus
broke from all save the host and Mrs. Grahame; Hugh gave a squeak
of joy in which was no surprise.
"I knew they would like it!" he cried, clapping his hands. "I knew
they would be surprised, and that the hair of their scalps would
be uplifted. It is yours, Beloved; it is for you!"
A cake! Who had ever seen such a cake? It must have been baked in
the biggest cheese-frame that the dairy could supply; or the rim
of a cart-wheel might have been used to frame its monstrous
circle. Certainly, as Guiseppe set it down before Hildegarde, it
seemed to cover the whole width of the great table. On its top the
frosting was piled high, in fantastic shapes. There seemed to be
little hills and valleys; and from among these peeped--and did
they only seem to move?--a number of tiny figures in green and
gold. One sat astride of a snowy pinnacle, another lay stretched
at full length in a hollow, his pretty face only peering out; some
were chasing each other among the elfin hills, others were
standing at ease, their hands on their hearts, their forms bent
gracefully as if in salutation. In the middle rose a white throne,
and on this sat the prettiest fairy of all, with a crown on her
head and a wand in her hand; she was dressed in white and gold,
and round her danced a circle of elves; and every elf held a tiny
blazing candle.
"Are you too old for dolls, Hildegarde?" asked the Colonel,
puffing with pleasure as he saw the delight in the girl's face.
"These are birthday fairies, you observe. There are eighteen of
them, and every one of them wishes you good luck, my dear, and
every happiness, every blessing that Heaven can bestow."
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