Thereby Hangs a Tale. Volume One. Fenn George Manville
my dear,” began Sir Hampton, pompously, “with people in our position – ”
The door opened and Edward appeared.
“Tell cook to poach the eggs and grill the cold turkey, Edward.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And where are the young – oh, dear me! bring a cloth; there’s that stupid teapot running over again.”
“Turn off the water, dear,” said Miss Matilda, with the suffering look of one who had been longing to make the tea herself.
“Oh yes, of course!” said her ladyship. “Quick, Edward, bring a cloth and sop up this mess.”
“Yes, m’ lady.”
Sir Hampton rustled his paper very loudly, rolled his head in his cravat till it crackled again, and looked cross. Then he strode to the table, took his seat, and began methodically to open the letter-bag and sort the letters; and then, in the midst of the sopping process and the exclamations of her ladyship, a door was heard to open, steps pattered over the hall floor, there was a babble of pleasant voices, a scuffling as of hats and baskets being thrown on to a table, and then the breakfast-room door opened, and two young girls hurried into the room.
“Nearly twenty minutes past nine, my dears,” said Sir Hampton, consulting his watch.
“Ah! so late, papa?” said one, hurrying up to kiss Lady Rea, and receive a hearty hug in return.
“Oh, never mind,” said the other, following her sister’s suit, and vigorously returning the maternal hug. “We’ve had such a jolly walk. Oh, ma, how well you look this morning!”
“Do I, my love? There, Edward – that will do. Now, the poached eggs and the turkey, quick!”
“Yes, m’ lady,” said Edward.
And he disappeared, as Sir Hampton was forgetting to be stiff for a few minutes, as he returned the salute of his eldest girl, Valentina.
“I’m sorry we’re late, papa; but we went farther than we meant.”
“But you know, Tiny,” said Sir Hampton, “I like punctuality.”
And he glanced with pride at the graceful undulating form, in its pretty morning dress; and then gazed in the soft grey eyes, looking lovingly out of a sweet oval face, framed in rich brown hair.
“Oh, bother punctuality, daddy!” said the younger girl, a merry, mischievous-looking blonde, with freckled face, bright eyes, and a charming petite form that was most attractive. “Don’t be cross,” she cried, getting behind his chair, throwing her arms round his neck, and laying a soft downy cheek upon his bald head. “Don’t be cross; we’ve had such a jolly walk, and got a basketful of ferns. There! that’ll make you good tempered.”
And she leaned over, dragging his head back, and kissed him half a dozen times on the forehead.
“Fin! Finetta!” exclaimed Sir Hampton. “Now, suppose one of the servants saw you!”
“Oh, they wouldn’t mind, daddy,” laughed the girl. “Oh, I say, how your head shines this morning!”
And bubbling over, as it were, with fun, she breathed sharply twice on her astonished parent’s crown, gave her hand a circular movement over it a few times, and, before he could recover from his surprise, she finished it off with a polish from her pocket-handkerchief, and then stepped back, looking mischievously at the irate knight, as he forced his chair back from the table and stared at her.
“Is the girl mad?” he exclaimed. “Finetta, you make me exceedingly angry.”
“Not with me, daddy,” said the girl placing herself on his knee. “Kiss me, and say good morning, sir.”
The head of the family hesitated for a moment, and then could not resist the upturned face, which he kissed and then pushed the girl away.
“Now go to your place; and I insist Fin, upon your dropping – ”
Miss Matilda started.
“I mean leaving off – using that absurdly childish appellation. I desire you always to address me as papa.”
“All right, daddy,” said the girl, laughing – “as soon as I can teach myself.”
Sir Hampton snatched himself back into his place, and began to open letters; while Finetta went and kissed her aunt.
“Well, aunty, how’s Pip this morning?”
“Pepine is very unwell, my dear,” said Miss Matilda, coldly.
“You stuff him too much, aunty, and don’t give him exercise enough.”
“My dear you should not deliver opinions upon what you do not understand. Your papa’s cup.”
“Don’t understand, aunty!” said the girl, passing the cup; “why, I know all about dogs and horses. You give Pip over to me for a week; I’ll soon put the little wretch right.”
Lady Rea saw the horror upon her sister-in-law’s countenance, and catching her daughter’s eye, shook her head at her, as she went on dispensing the tea.
“Have some poached eggs, daddy – pa?” said Fin, correcting herself with much gravity, and revelling in the look of suffering upon her aunt’s face. “No? Tiny, give papa some of the turkey.”
Sir Hampton fed himself mechanically, passed some letters to his wife and eldest daughter, and read his own.
“Is there no letter for me, Hampton?” said Miss Matilda, plaintively.
There was a grunt, indicative of “No,” from the knight; and Miss Matilda sighed, and went on sipping her sugarless tea, and nibbling some very dry, butterless toast.
“I say, Aunt Matty,” said Fin, merrily, “I mean to take you in hand.”
“Take me in hand, child?” said the spinster.
“Yes, aunty. Now, look here; if, instead of stopping grumping here at home, you had had a jolly good run with us – ”
Miss Matilda took a sip of her tea, which might have been vinegar from the aspect of her countenance.
“You could have gathered ferns, sipped the bright morning dew, come back with a colour, and eaten a breakfast like I do. Tiny, give me some more of that turkey.”
“Your appetite is really ravenous, child,” said Miss Matilda, with a shudder.
“Not it, aunty; I’m growing – ain’t I, ma, dear?”
“Well, my love, I think you are filling out – not growing.”
“Oh, but, ma,” laughed Fin, with her mouth full, “I’m not going to be round and plump like you are, am I?”
“Fin!” exclaimed her sister, from the other side of the table.
“Oh, ma knows I don’t mean any harm; don’t you, dear? It’s only my fun, isn’t it? I shouldn’t mind – I should like to be such a soft, loving old dear; shouldn’t I?”
“Hush, hush, hush!” exclaimed Lady Rea. “I do think, though, aunty, a walk would do you good before breakfast.”
“Perhaps it might do you good, too,” said Miss Matilda, with some asperity.
“Er-rum, er-rum!” ejaculated Sir Hampton, laying down a big blue official envelope. “Lady Rea – my dears, I have something to communicate.”
He sat back in his chair, and brushed a few crumbs from his buff waistcoat.
“Well, pa, dear, what is it?” said Lady Rea, out of her tea-cup.
“Er-rum, I have at last,” said Sir Hampton, pompously, “received public recognition of my position. My dears, I have been placed upon the bench, and am now one of the county magistracy.”
He looked round for the applause which should follow.
“Well, my dear, I’m sure