The Long Vacation Part 7

Above all, he was eloquent on the sh.e.l.l of a lacemaker crab, all over p.r.i.c.kles, which he had seen hanging in the window of a little tobacconist. He had been so much fascinated by it that General Mohun regretted not having taken him to buy it, though it appeared to be displayed more for ornament than for sale.

"It is a disgusting den," added the General, "with 'Ici on parle Francais' in the window, and people hanging about among whom I did not fancy taking the boy."

"I know the place," said Miss Mohun. "Strange to say, it produces rather a nice girl, under the compulsion of the school officer. She is plainly half a foreigner, and when Mr. Flight got up those theatricals last winter she sung most sweetly, and showed such talent that I thought it quite dangerous."

"I remember," said her brother. "She was a fairy among the clods."

The next morning, to the amazement of Miss Mohun, who thought herself one of the earliest of risers, she not only met the father and son at early matins, but found that they had been out for two hours enjoying sea-side felicity, watching the boats come in, and delighting in the beauty of the fresh mackerel.

"If they had not all been dead!" sighed the tender-hearted little fellow. "But I've got my lacemaker for Audrey."

"'The carapace of a pagurus,' as Fergus translated it." Adding, "I don't know the species."

"I can find out when father has time to let us look at the big natural history book in the shop," said Felix. "We must not look at it unless he turns it over, so Pearl and I are saving up to buy it."

"For instance!" said his father, laughing.

"Oh, I could not help getting something for them all," pleaded the boy, "and pagurus was not dear. At least he is, in the other way."

"Take care, Fely--he won't stand caresses. I should think he was the first crab ever so embraced."

"I wonder you got entrance so early in the day," said Miss Mohun.

"The girl was sweeping out the shop, and singing the morning hymn, so sweetly and truly, that it would have attracted me anyway," said Lancelot. "No doubt the seafaring men want 'baccy at all hours. She was much amazed at our request, and called her mother, who came out in remarkable dishabille, and is plainly foreign. I can't think where I have seen such a pair of eyes--most likely in the head of some chorus-singer, indeed the voice had something of the quality. Anyway, she stared at me to the full extent of them."

So Lancelot departed, having put in hand negotiations for a tolerable house not far from St. Andrew's Church, and studied the accommodation available for horses, and the powers of the pianos on hire.

CHAPTER VI. -- ST. ANDREW'S ROCK

Helpmates and hearthmates, gladdeners of gone years, Tender companions of our serious days, Who colour with your kisses, smiles, and tears, Life's worn web woven over wonted ways.--LYTTON.

"How does he seem now?" said Geraldine, as Lancelot came into the drawing-room of St. Andrew's Rock at Rockquay, in the full glare of a cold east windy May evening.

"Pretty well f.a.gged out, but that does not greatly matter. I say, Cherry, how will you stand this? Till I saw you in this den, I had no notion how shabby, and dull, and ugly it is."

"My dear Lance, if you did but know how refreshing it is to see anything shabby, and dull, and ugly," Mrs. Grinstead answered with imitative inflections, which set Anna Vanderkist off into a fit of laughter, infecting both her uncle and aunt. The former gravely said--

"If you had only mentioned it in time, I could have gratified you more effectually."

"I suppose it is Aunt Cherry's charity," said Anna, recovering. "The reflection that but for her the poor natives would never have been able to go to their German baths."

"Oh, no such philanthropy, my dear. It is homeliness, or rather homeyness, that is dear to my bourgeoise mind. I was afraid of spick-and-span, sap-green aestheticism, but those curtains have done their own fading in pleasing shades, that good old sofa can be lain upon, and there's a real comfortable crack on that frame; while as to the chiffonier, is not it the marrow of the one Mrs. Froggatt left us, where Wilmet kept all the things in want of mending?"

"Ah! didn't you shudder when she turned the key?" said Lance.

"Not knowing what was good for me."

"But you will send for some of our things and make it nice," entreated Anna, "or Gerald will never stay here."

"Never fear; we'll have it presentable by the vacation. As for Uncle Clement, he would never see whether he was in a hermit's cell, if he only had one arm-chair and one print from Raffaelle."

There was a certain arch ring in her voice that had long been absent, and Anna looked joyous as she waited on them both.

"I am glad you brought her," said Lance, as she set off with Uncle Clement's tea.

"Yes, she would not hear of the charms of the season."

"So much the better for her. She is a good girl, and will be all the happier down here, as well as better. There's a whole hive of Merrifields to make merry with her; and, by the bye, Cherry, what should you think of housing a little chap for the school here where Fergus Merrifield is?"

"Your dear little Felix? Delightful!"

"_Ouf_! No, he is booked for our grammar school."

"The grammar school was not good for any of you, except the one whom nothing hurt."

"It is very different now. I have full confidence in the head, and the tone is improved throughout. Till my boys are ready for a public school I had rather they were among our own people. No, Cherry, I can't do it, I can't give up the delight of him yet; no, I can't, nor lose his little voice out of the choir, and have his music spoilt."

"I don't wonder."

"I don't think I spoil him. I really have flogged him once," said Lance, half wistfully, half playfully.

"How proud you are of it."

"It was for maltreating little Joan Vanderkist, though if it had only been her brother, I should have said, 'Go it, boys.' It was not till afterwards that it turned out that Joan was too loyal not to bear the penalty of having tied our little Audrey into a chair to be pelted with horse-chestnuts."

"At Adrian's bidding?"

"Of course. I fancy the Harewood boys set him on. And what I thought of was sending Adrian here to be schooled at Mrs. Edgar's, boarded by you, mothered by Anna, and altogether saved from being made utterly detestable, as he will inevitably be if he remains to tyrannize over Vale Leston."

"Would his mother consent?"

"You know he is entirely in Clement's power."

"It would only be another worry for Clement."

"He need not have much of him, and I believe he would prefer to have him under his own eye; and Anna will think it bliss to have him, though what it may prove is another question. She will keep you from being too much bothered."

"My dear Lance, will you never understand, that as furze and thistles are to a donkey, so are shabbiness and bother to me--a native element?"

In the morning Clement, raised on his pillows in bed, showed himself highly grateful for the proposal about his youngest ward.

"It is very good of you, Cherry," he said. "That poor boy has been very much on my mind. This is the way to profit by my enforced leisure."