|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 60
"Oh," said Hilda to all these good friends, "you know it is not
because I don't want to go to my blessed mother; of course you all
know that--"
"Of course we do, dear!" cried Bell and her mother, soothingly.
"Of course you want to go, and we ought to want you to go; but we
don't; and it has come so quickly, and all."
"And we were going to the Painted Rocks to-morrow!" cried Phil.
Gerald began to mutter something under his breath about
"Little Gerald was my brudder,
Merry Mater was my mudder,
Nebber heard ob any udder."
But his adaptation was checked by a look from his mother, and he
relapsed into gloom. "It's a horrid, atrocious shame!" he said. "I
can't help it, and Hilda needn't speak to me again if she doesn't
want to; but I cannot tell a lie, and I am NOT glad that Mrs.
Grahame has come home, and I never shall be."
"Dear Jerry!" said Hilda. "We have had such good times, haven't
we? And you will be coming back, you know, to town some day, and I
shall hear all about the merrymakings--"
But here her voice broke, and deeply ashamed of herself, she
hurried into the house to put her things together. The kind
Merryweathers went with her, and vied with each other in helping
her make her preparations. Since it must be, it should be as
cheerfully done as possible; so Bell packed her trunk, and
Gertrude buttered bread with ardour, that Hilda might have
luncheon before she went; a good many tears fell into the butter,
but Hilda said she did not mind that.
Soon, too soon, alas! all was ready; the little trunk packed and
strapped, and Hilda in jacket and hat--the first time in a month
that she had worn either--smiling as well as she could, and
kissing and shaking hands, almost in silence.
Mr. Merryweather had just come up from the boathouse, and joined
his regrets to the general chorus.
"And who is the captain of this black-sailed ship that carries our
little girl away from us?" he asked. "Are you going to drive her
in, Gerald?"
"No, father," said Gerald, hastily. "I think Roger is going in."
"Yes," said Roger; "I am going in, Miles."
"Oh!" said Mr. Merryweather. "Is there anything special you want
to see to in town, Roger?"
"Why--no; I am going for--"
"Then, if it's all the same, suppose you let Phil drive Hilda in.
I want your help this afternoon, very much, on the Keewaydin. The
boys aren't quite strong enough to tackle her. What do you say,
Hilda? You would just as lief have Phil, I dare say, and it will
be a treat to him."
What could our poor dear Hilda say? What could she do but smile
her assent, when she saw Phil's honest face radiant with pleasure?
Gerald, after looking round in vain for his mother and Bell, who
had gone into the house to get something, did indeed mutter that
he wanted Phil dreadfully, to do something of great importance, it
did not appear precisely what; but he was promptly set down by his
father.
Roger Merryweather stood silent. The habit of giving way to
others, of letting the youngsters have all the pleasure possible,
and taking the workaday parts of life for himself, was strong upon
him. And when had he refused his brother Miles anything?
Miles Merryweather nodded in satisfaction, and went into the house
to get his letters.
"I am going to send Phil in with Hilda, instead of Roger," he
announced, cheerfully. "Is there anything--"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|