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"Good night," he replied, taking both my hands in his. "You are the best little woman in the world, and I hope we will spend all your other birthdays together." "It's to be hoped you've said something to make Harry a trifle sweeter than he was this afternoon," said Goodchum. Then it was: "Good night, Mrs Bossier! Good night, Harry! Good night, Archie! Good night, Mr Goodchum!
Aunt Helen acknowledged the introduction, and seated her guests, saying: "Harry, have you got an artistic eye? If so, you can assist me with these flowers. So might Mr Goodchum, if he feels disposed." Harold accepted the proposal, and remarked: "What is the matter with your niece? It is the first time I ever saw her quiet."
However, Mr Goodchum. did not execute his threat; instead we walked along decorously in the direction of the nearest ferns, while Harold and aunt Helen followed, the latter carrying a sunbonnet for me. After we had climbed some distance up a gully aunt Helen called out that she and Harold would rest while I did the honours of the fern grots to my companion.
He did not laugh as he usually did at my tricks, but frowned darkly instead. "We've been carving our names at least, I have," remarked Goodchum. Harold tossed my sun-bonnet on the ground, and said shortly, "Come on, Goodchum, we must be going." "Oh, don't go, Mr Beecham. I thought you came on purpose for my birthday tea. Auntie has made me a tremendous cake. You must stay.
After that I tried hard to find out who she was, but my inquiries always came to nothing. I little dreamt who Miss Melvyn was when Harry, telling me she was a Goulburn girl, asked if I knew her." "Quite romantic," said aunt Helen, smiling; and a great thankfulness overcame me that Mr Goodchum had been unable to discover my identity until now.
"Yes; she is a noisy little article a perfect whirlwind in the house but she is a little tired this afternoon; she has been seeing those sheep through today." "Don't you think it would be a good lark if I get something and tickle her?" said Goodchum. "Yes, do," said Harold; "but look out for squalls. She is a great little fizzer." "Then she might be insulted." "Not she," interposed auntie.
"Oh, yes it is," chirped Mr Goodchum. I haven't the slightest idea of the young lady's name." "Don't know each other!" ejaculated Harold; and grannie, who had appeared upon the scene, inquired stiffly what we meant by such capers if unacquainted. Mr Goodchum hastened to explain.
Mr Goodchum told us it was his first experience of the country, and therefore he was enjoying himself immensely. He also mentioned that he was anxious to see some of the gullies around Caddagat, which, he had heard, were renowned for the beauty of their ferns. Aunt Helen, accordingly, proposed a walk in the direction of one of them, and hurried off to attend to a little matter before starting.
While waiting for her, Harold happened to say it was my birthday, and Mr Goodchum tendered me the orthodox wishes, remarking, It is surely pardonable at your time of life to ask what age you have attained today?" "Seventeen." "Oh! oh! 'sweet seventeen, and never been kissed'; but I suppose you cannot truthfully say that, Miss Melvyn?" "Oh yes, I can."
Mr Goodchum offered to accompany me, but Harold stepped forward saying he would go, in such a resolute tragic manner that Goodchum winked audaciously, saying waggishly, "Behold, the hero descends into the burning mine!" Ah, For One Hour of Burning Love, 'tis Worth an Age of Cold Respect! We walked in perfect silence, Harold not offering to carry my little basket.
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