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Updated: May 25, 2025
Also, she wanted a quiet holiday and she proposed to take one. And now Magda was on her way to join her, Gillian remaining behind in order to close up the house at Hampstead and settle the servants on board wages. It had been arranged that she and Coppertop should come on to Netherway immediately this was accomplished.
It was Honeycott who lifted Coppertop on to the broad back of the steadiest cart-horse; who had taught him how to feed calves by dipping his chubby little hand into a pail of milk and then letting them suck the milk from off his fingers; who beneficently contrived that hardly a load of hay was driven to the great rick without Coppertop's small person perched proudly aloft thereon, his slim legs dangling and his shrill voice joining with that of the carter in an encouraging "Come-up, Blossom," to the bay mare as she plodded forward between the shafts.
She was fugitively sweet and tender with Coppertop, and now and then her eyes would shine with a quiet, dreaming light as though she visioned a future wherein someone like Coppertop, only littler, might lie in the crook of her arm.
It was hurting her pride far more than Gillian knew or could imagine to ask a favour of this man. And he wasn't going to make it easy for her, either that was evident. But she must ask it, nevertheless. For Gillian's sake; for the sake of poor little Coppertop fighting for breath and with no "mummie" at hand to help and comfort him; and for the sake of Lady Arabella, too.
At the sound of the opening door Coppertop wriggled out of her grasp like an eel, twisting his lithe young body round to see who the new arrival might be. His face fell woefully as he caught sight of Davilof. "Oh, you can't never have come already to play for the Fairy Lady!" he exclaimed in accents of dire disappointment.
Frankly, if I could lessen her punishment by lifting my little finger I wouldn't do it." Yet this same man when, as often happened, he took Gillian and Coppertop for a run into the country in his car, was as simple and considerate and kindly as a man could be. Coppertop adored him, and, as Gillian reflected, the love of children is rarely misplaced.
"It's not never three o'clock!" wailed Coppertop disconsolately, as Davilof dangled his watch in front of him. "I think it is, small son," interpolated Gillian, gathering together her sewing materials. "Come along. We must leave the Fairy Lady to practise now, because she's got to dance to half the people in London to-morrow."
Even the garden at Friars' Holm, usually a coolly green oasis in the midst of the surrounding streets, seemed as airless as any back court or alley, and Coppertop, who had been romping ever more and more flaggingly with a fox-terrier puppy he had recently acquired, finally gave up the effort and flung himself down, red-faced and panting, on the lawn where his mother and Magda were sitting.
"Isn't it nearly time for us to go to the seaside, mummie?" he inquired plaintively. Magda smiled down at the small wistful face. "How would you like to go to the country instead, Topkins?" she asked. "To a farm where they have pigs and horses and cows, and heaps of cream " "And strawberries?" interpolated Coppertop pertinently. "Oh, of course. Or, no they'll be over by the time we get there.
"I'm quite expecting you to get bored in about a week and to rush me off to Deauville or somewhere of that ilk. And as to being 'good' why, it isn't in you!" "I'm not so sure." Magda rose and together they strolled over the grass towards the house, Coppertop skirmishing happily behind them.
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