The Merryweathers Part 13

"The _Come-at-a-Body_, Gerald.

"The _Mola.s.ses Cooky_, Phil.

"The _Polly Cologne_, Kitty.

"The _Whopper_, w.i.l.l.y."

"Is that all?"

"All but Peggy's," said Gertrude. "Peggy, you must decide on the name of your boat."

"Oh! Gertrude, that is the hardest part of all. Margaret, you must name her for me."

"Why not _Semiramis_, after the happy mother of the puppies?" suggested Margaret.

"The whole puppies!" echoed Gerald. "Don't half name them, Margaret!"

"Why isn't that the name for the boat?" cried Phil.

"It is! it is!" cried all the rest. "The _Whole Puppy_, it is!" And Peggy laughing, submitted.

"I never _was_ so teased in all my life!" she said; "but I feel it doing me good."

"That is our one object, my charming child!" said Gerald, gravely. "We invited you here in the hope that our united efforts might counteract the pernicious influences of Fernley House."

"n.o.body will ever explain to me what a Come-at-a-Body is!" said Margaret. "Whenever I ask, you all say, 'Oh, hush! it might come!' Mrs.

Merryweather, won't you tell me?"

"I will read you the description of it in the Log," said Mrs.

Merryweather, smiling; "that is the best I can do for you."

She turned over the pages of the book that lay open in her lap. "Here it is!" she said. "Now mark and learn, Margaret.

"'The Come-at-a-Body is found only in its native habitat, where it may be observed at the proper season, indulging in the peculiar actions that characterize it. It has more arms than legs, and more hair than either.

It moves with great rapidity, its gait being something between a wallop and a waddle; and as it comes (one of its peculiarities is that it always comes, and never goes), it utters loud screams, and gnashes its teeth in time with its movements.'

"Now, my dear, you know all that I do!" Mrs. Merryweather concluded with a candid smile.

"Thank you so much!" said Margaret, laughing. "I am certainly enlightened."

At this moment Phil, who was sitting near the door, laid down his work, and held up a warning hand. "Hark!" he said. "What is that?"

"Only the wind!" said some one.

"Or the car rattling o'er the stony street!" said another.

"No!" said Phil. "I heard a voice, I am sure. Listen!"

All were silent. Outside the rain was pouring, the wind wailing in long sighing gusts; but--yes! mingling with the wind, a voice was certainly calling:

"Hallo! hallo, there! Merryweather!"

Gerald sprang to his feet, and struck his twin brother on the shoulder.

"The Philistines are upon thee, Samson!" he cried. "I should know that voice in the shock of spears: it is Claud Belleville!"

CHAPTER IX.

MR. BELLEVILLE

[Ill.u.s.tration: "MR. CLAUD BELLEVILLE WAS A TALL, PALLID YOUTH."]

THE Montforts and Jack Ferrers looked up with much curiosity and some apprehension as the twins returned ushering in the unexpected visitor.

Mr. and Mrs. Merryweather and the girls welcomed him cordially, but Margaret could not help contrasting their somewhat subdued cheerfulness with the joyous outburst that had welcomed herself and Peggy on their arrival.

Mr. Claud Belleville was a tall, pallid youth, with blond hair carefully arranged, pale blue eyes, in one of which an eyegla.s.s was neatly fitted, and a languid air. He spoke with a p.r.o.nounced English accent, and, on being presented to the other guests, said "Oh! very, very, very!" in a most affable tone.

The Merryweathers bestirred themselves, some bringing dry garments, some preparing a hasty meal; the guest meanwhile stood in the centre of the hearthstone, and adjured them not to put themselves to inconvenience.

"Now, my dear people, I beg of you!" he said. "Nothing, positively nothing, but a biscuit and a cup of tea! Really, now, I cannot allow it.

Thanks, Jerry! awfully good of you, don't you know! oh! very, very, very! now, my dear fellow, _not_ your best coat! It is too absurd."

"It isn't my best, it's my worst!" said Gerald, bluntly.

"Oh! very good! very diverting! thanks awfully! don't mention it. Well, Cousin Miranda, this is charming; this is positively charming. So delightfully primitive, don't you know! oh, very, very, very! I told my people that before I went back to Paris I must positively look you up.

It is such an age since I have seen any of you. My little cousins are all grown up into young ladies, and such charming young ladies: I congratulate you, Cousin, _de tout mon coeur_!"

"Thank you, Claud!" said Mrs. Merryweather, quietly. "I trust your mother is quite well? I only received her note, and Gerald yours, to-day. She spoke of your coming next week; if we had known that you were coming to-night, we would have sent to the station for you."

"Ah, yes; I knew that!" said Mr. Belleville. "I know your hospitality never fails, Cousin Miranda. But you know me, too--a b.u.t.terfly--here to-day, gone to-morrow! A summons from the Dunderblincks--races going on at their place, don't you know; midsummer _fetes_, that sort of thing--changed my plans. Mamma said, 'You will have to give up the Camp, _Cheri_!' 'No!' I said. 'They expect me; I have pa.s.sed my word, it is all I have. I go to the Camp to-day.' I came--I saw--I dare not say I conquered!" Here he bowed, and threw a killing glance at Gertrude, who was pa.s.sing at the moment, carrying the teapot.

"_Can_ this be the little Gertrude?" he added, addressing her, and lowering his voice to a sentimental half-tone. "She has not forgotten Cousin Claud?"

"Certainly not, Claud!" replied Gertrude, smiling. "It is only three years since you were with us at home for two or three weeks. I remember you perfectly."

"Only three years!" murmured Mr. Belleville. "Is it possible? but what momentous years! The change from the _pet.i.te fille_, the charming child, to the woman, the--but I must not say too much!"

"You'll burn your bloom--your boots, if you stand so near the fire!"

said Gerald, in a growl so threatening that Margaret looked up startled.

"_Your_ boots, dear fellow!" Mr. Belleville corrected him. "Right! I am a little near the cheerful blaze. I am a fire-worshipper, you know; oh, very, very, very!"

"Boys, you'd better see to the boats before you go to bed!" said Mr.

Merryweather, speaking for the first time since his greeting of the newcomer.

"All right, sir!" said the twins, rising with alacrity. "Jack, will you come along?"