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Updated: May 4, 2025
But I threw no blame either on you or your harp. I cannot recollect saying even a syllable that implied blame." "No, my dear, you did not say a syllable; but in some cases the silence of those we love is the worst, the most mortifying species of blame." The tears came into Griselda's beautiful eyes. "My sweet love," said he, "how can you let such a trifle affect you so much?"
Griselda's heart smote her; she looked at him more carefully. He was such a very little boy, after all; she did not like to be cross to him. "How old are you?" she asked. "Five and a bit. I had a birthday after the summer, and if I'm good, nurse says perhaps I'll have one after next summer too. Do you ever have birthdays?" he went on, peering up at Griselda.
"Oh no," said the cuckoo; "they are welcoming you. Hold out your hands." Griselda held out her hands, and stood gazing up into the sky. In a minute or two the royal butterflies appeared again, slowly, majestically circling downwards, till at length they alighted on Griselda's little hands, the king on the right, the queen on the left, almost covering her fingers with their great dazzling wings.
Griselda's heart smote her; she looked at him more carefully. He was such a very little boy, after all; she did not like to be cross to him. "How old are you?" she asked. "Five and a bit. I had a birthday after the summer, and if I'm good, nurse says perhaps I'll have one after next summer too. Do you ever have birthdays?" he went on, peering up at Griselda.
He's quite a little boy, ma'am between five and six only just about the age Miss Griselda's dear papa was when he first came to us, and, by all I can hear, quite a little gentleman." "A little gentleman," repeated Miss Grizzel, "and not six years old! That is less objectionable than I expected. What is his name, as you know so much, Dorcas?" "Master Phil," replied Dorcas.
Forthwith, to Griselda's astonishment, they began solemnly to nod. "Oh, how do you make them do that, Aunt Grizzel?" she exclaimed. "Never you mind, my dear; it wouldn't do for you to try to make them nod. They wouldn't like it," replied Miss Grizzel mysteriously. "Respect to your elders, my dear, always remember that. The mandarins are many years older than you older than I myself, in fact."
"I had better go back to bed," she said to herself; "but I am not a bit sleepy." She was just drawing-to the shutter again, when something caught her eye, and she stopped short in surprise. A little bird was outside on the windowsill a tiny bird crouching in close to the cold glass. Griselda's kind heart was touched in an instant.
Griselda felt her way as best she could, past the Chinese cabinet and the pot-pourri jar, till she got to the ante-room door. It was open, and now, knowing her way better, she hurried in. But what was the use? All was silent, save the tick-tick of the cuckoo clock in the corner. Oh, if only the cuckoo would come out and call the hour as usual, what a weight would be lifted off Griselda's heart!
Not the influence of the sun on the statue of Memnon was ever more exhilarating. Let any candid female say, or, if she will not say, imagine, what she should have felt at that moment in Griselda's place. How intoxicating to human vanity, to be possessed of such powers of enchantment! How difficult to refrain from their exercise! How impossible to believe in their finite duration!
He's quite a little boy, ma'am between five and six only just about the age Miss Griselda's dear papa was when he first came to us, and, by all I can hear, quite a little gentleman." "A little gentleman," repeated Miss Grizzel, "and not six years old! That is less objectionable than I expected. What is his name, as you know so much, Dorcas?" "Master Phil," replied Dorcas.
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