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"'By cool Siloam's shady rill How fair the lily grows," Rosalind chanted dreamily. Grandmamma had given her the hymn book, telling her to choose a hymn and commit it to memory, and as she turned the pages this had caught her eye and pleased her fancy. "It sounds like the Forest of Arden," she said, leaning back on the garden bench and shutting her eyes.
Come with me downstairs; I will read to you if you like." "Oh yes, do," said Charlie. "I don't care for reading," cried Cecil. "Can't you play bears?" "It makes too much noise. I will play it to-morrow if grandmamma is better. Shall I tell you a story?" "No," said Cecil; "I will tell you one." "Very well. I shall be delighted to hear it."
"Then everything goes wrong, for God lets us then go where we like, and when we get poor and miserable and begin to cry about it no one pities us, but they say, You ran away from God, and so God, who could have helped you, left you to yourself." "That is true, Heidi; where did you learn that?" "From grandmamma; she explained it all to me."
"Don't cry, grandmamma." It was this scene which met the eyes of Wyvis Brand when he turned the handle of the drawing-room door and walked into the room. His mother weeping, with a child before her, and a dark-haired girl on her knees with one arm round the weeping woman and one round the lovely child. It was a pretty picture, and Wyvis Brand was not insensible to its beauty.
The little Rowlands were walking with their mother when the chaise came up the street; but being particularly desired not to look at it, they were not much benefited by the event. Their grandmamma, Mrs Enderby, was not at the moment under the same restriction; and her high cap might be seen above the green blind of her parlour as the chaise turned into Mr Grey's gate.
And now grandmamma came up, anxious for a sight of her son's happy face. "Well, what do you say now, dear son?" she exclaimed. "You have given us a pleasant surprise, but it is nothing in comparison to what we have prepared for you, you must confess," and she gave her son an affectionate kiss as she spoke.
She is gentle, affectionate, modest, and retiring, and much beloved by all the scholars. . . . I am still going on with my French, and carrying two young ladies through Virgil, and if I have time, shall commence Italian. I am very comfortable and happy. I propose, my dear grandmamma, to send you by the first opportunity a dish of fruit of my own painting.
"It was no great harm, after all," said Grandpapa, more than half, to tell the truth, immersed in his paper. "Not as said to a discreet person like Barbara," replied Grandmamma. "But still they have the right to all we can give them, the little dears, as long as we are here to give it. I could not bear them ever to have the idea that we felt them a burden."
But one was a blue-bottle, and broke some of the threads," said my Uncle Charles, laughing, and patting my shoulder. "Really!" said Grandmamma. "I am pleased to see you, young ladies. Hester, my dear, are you sure you are quite well?" "I shall be better now," Hatty tried to say, in a trembling voice, and fainted away.
My Aunt Kezia is Father's sister, and has kept house for him since Mamma died, so of course she is no kin to Grandmamma at all. I know it sounds queer to say "Father and Mamma," instead of "Father and Mother," but I cannot help it.
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