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Page 18
The good Colonel had begun merrily enough, but before the end of
his little speech his deep voice trembled, and the tears stood in
Hildegarde's eyes. She tried to speak, but the words did not come;
so, leaving her seat, she went quietly up to the Colonel and
kissed his forehead. "Thank you, dear friend!" she said; and it
was all she could say.
"There! there!" said the Colonel, recovering himself at once.
"Glad you like it, my child! Glad you like it! The fancy was my
mother's; she had a poetic taste, madam." He turned to Mrs.
Merryweather, who was beaming with admiration and delight. "She
had these little figures made long ago,--for another eighteenth
birthday,--a dear young friend of hers. Yes, yes! They have been
kept in cotton-wool forty years, madam. Little candle holders, you
perceive. A pretty fancy, eh? I happened to remember them the
other day,--hunted 'em up,--the result, thanks to Mrs. Grahame and
Elizabeth Beadle. Mrs. Beadle, ma'am, I desire that you will come
in, and not skulk in the doorway there, as if you had reason to be
ashamed of your handiwork. My housekeeper, Mrs. Beadle, ladies and
gentlemen: a good woman, if she will allow me to say so, and a
good cook. Now, Guiseppe, a knife for Miss Grahame, and we will
test the quality of this same cake. Plenty of citron, I trust,
Elizabeth Beadle? No little skimpy bits, but wedges, slabs of
citron? Ha! that is as it should be. She wanted to make a white
cake, my dear,--a light, effervescent kind of thing, that can
hardly be tasted in the mouth; but I refused to insult either you
or my traditions in such a manner. A birthday cake, Mrs. Grahame,
my dear madam, should be as rich as spices and plums, brandy and
citron,--especially citron, which I take to be an epitome of the
Orient, gastronomically speaking,--as rich as all manner of good
things can make it. You agree with me, my young friend?" He nodded
to Gerald, whose eyes met his, flaming with approval.
"Oh, don't I, sir!" cried Gerald. "When they talk about
wholesomeness and that sort of r--of thing,--well, I beg your
pardon, mater dear, but you know you do, sometimes, in a manner to
turn gray the hair,--when they do, I always think it's a dreadful
shame to have wholesome things on your birthday. And--oh, I say!"
Here he relapsed into silence, as the first slice dropped from the
side of the great cake, revealing depth upon depth of richness.
The two mothers shuddered slightly, and exchanged deploring
smiles; but Hugh clasped his hands in rapture, and lifted up his
voice and spoke.
"You are King Solomon to-day, Guardian, aren't you,--instead of
other kings, as sometimes you are? And my great-aunt is the Queen
of Sheba. And--'there came no more such abundance of spices as
these which the Queen of Sheba gave to King Solomon. And gold, and
precious stones, and knops and flowers'--oh, see them all! And,
Guardian,--I mean King Solomon, DO you think there might be an
almug tree in the garden?"
When tea was over, the Colonel bowed the ladies out of the room
with punctilious courtesy, and motioned to Hugh to follow them;
then he turned to the two Merryweather boys.
"May I offer you cigars, young gentlemen?" he asked; and he took a
couple of cheroots from the mantel-piece.
The boys blushed bravely, but Phil said, quietly, "No, thank you,
sir. We are not going to smoke till we are twenty-one. Father
thinks that is soon enough."
The Colonel nodded approvingly. "Your father is right!" he said.
"Very right, indeed, my young friend. I beg you to take notice
that, though obliged by the laws of hospitality to offer you
cigars, I should have thought it unsuitable if you had accepted
them. Thirty years ago I should have been obliged to offer you
wine, also, but happily that is no longer necessary. Forty years
ago,--hum, ha! If you will permit me, I will smoke a cheroot for
the party. Your father prefers a pipe, I believe, but give me a
Manilla cheroot, and I am satisfied."
"Excuse me, sir," said Gerald, "but weren't you going to say
something else?"
Colonel Ferrers smiled. "You are quick, my boy," he said. "I was
indeed thinking of something that happened forty years ago,--of my
first smoke. Possibly you might be amused to hear about it?"
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