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'Let the weather be never so unkind, we'll find a way of enjoying ourselves at the Abbey, said Aunt Betsy, who was in tremendous spirits 'Won't we, Vernie? 'Of course, answered Vernon. 'Mother has a new bonnet, and is afraid of getting it spoiled. The weather won't interfere with us. We can play hide-and-seek in the Abbey cellars.
Vernie, who was half way through his second glass of sparkling moselle, burst out laughing. 'Lady Palliser! he exclaimed, 'it's so funny to hear mamma called Lady: because she isn't a lady, you know. She used to run about the house all day with her sleeves tucked up, and she used to cook; and Jane, our English servant, said no lady ever did that.
Perhaps the maintenance of this great sham is not without its evil, as it is apt to make the waiter class rapacious and exacting, and ready to impute meanness to that superior order which has wallowed in wealth from the cradle. 'Suppose we go to the Tower? inquired Brian. 'Perhaps Vernie has never seen the Tower?
On the homeward road they wound near the base of Blackman's Hanger, and at this point Vernon got up and ordered the coachman to drive as near as he could to the old gamekeeper's cottage. 'We can walk the rest of the way, said the boy. 'Walk! shrieked Lady Palliser. 'Oh, Vernie, what are you dreaming about? Mr. Fosbroke never said you might walk.
'Very likely not, retorted the boy; 'but you don't suppose I'm going to ask old Fosbroke's leave before I use my legs. Look here, mother dear, I'm as well as ever I was, and I'm not going to be mollicoddled any more. 'But Vernie 'I am not going to be mollicoddled any more, and I'm going to see old Jack. 'Nonsense, Vernie.
'How could men wear such trousers? and how could women wear such bonnets? he asked his mother, wonderingly contemplating fashionable youth as represented by the great pen-and-ink humourist. 'I don't know why we shouldn't wear them, Vernie, said his mother, with rather an offended air; 'those spoon bonnets were very becoming. I wore one the day your pa first saw me.
'Mamma, however could we live so long in that horrid little house in France? he demanded one day, as he prowled about his mother's spacious morning-room in the autumn dusk, dragging fine old folios out of a book shelf in his search for picture-books, while Lady Palliser and her stepdaughter sat at tea by the fire. The lady of the house gave a faint sigh. 'I don't know, Vernie, she said.
Here he was a welcome guest both at the Knoll and at the Homestead; while there was a third house open to him within a walk of the village, for Mr. Wendover had returned from his distant wanderings, and he and Vernie were on very friendly terms. Ida had as yet seen but little of the master of the Abbey, albeit she heard of him almost daily from some of The Knoll family.
'You darling, how pale and worried you look! exclaimed Bessie, as she hugged her friend; 'and why didn't you let me come before? 'You could have done me no good, dear, when my troubles were at the worst. Thank God the worst is over now Vernie is getting on splendidly. He was downstairs to-day, and ate such a dinner. We were quite afraid he would bring on a relapse from over-eating.
'And hoops under your gown like that? said Vernie, pointing; 'and those funny little boots? What a guy you must have looked!
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