The Rosery Folk. George Manville Fenn

The Rosery Folk - George Manville Fenn


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you know how I hate the water. It is not safe.”

      “But James is so careful, aunt. I’d go anywhere with him.”

      “Of course you would, my child,” said Aunt, Sophia shortly. “A wife should trust in her husband thoroughly and well.”

      “So should a maiden aunt in her nephew,” said Scarlett, laughing. “Come, auntie, you shan’t be drowned.”

      “Now, James, my dear, don’t try to persuade me,” said the lady, pulling up her black lace mittens in a peculiar, nervous, twitchy way.

      “I’ll undertake to do the best for you, if you are drowned, Miss Raleigh,” said the doctor drily. “I’m pretty successful with such cases.”

      “Doctor Scales!” cried Aunt Sophia.

      “Fact, my dear madam. An old friend of mine did the Royal Humane Society’s business for them at the building in Hyde Park; and one very severe winter when I helped him, we really brought back to life a good many whom you might have quite given up.”

      “Doctor, you horrify me,” cried Aunt Sophia.—“Naomi, my child, come away.”

      “No, no: nonsense!” cried Scarlett. “It’s only Jack’s joking way, auntie.”

      “Joke!” cried the doctor; “nonsense. The ice was unsafe; so of course the idiots insisted upon setting the police at defiance, and went on, to drown themselves as fast as they could.”

      “How dreadful!” said Prayle.

      “Very, for the poor doctors,” said Scales grimly. “I nearly rubbed my arms out of the sockets.”

      “Kitty, dear, you stay with Aunt Sophia, then,” said Scarlett. “We won’t be very long away.”

      “Stop!” cried Aunt Sophia sternly. “Where is it you are going?”

      “Up to the lock and weir,” said Scarlett. “You and Kitty can sit under the big medlar in the shade till we come back.”

      “The lock and weir?” cried Aunt Sophia sharply. “That’s where the water comes running over through a lot of sticks, isn’t it?”

      “Yes, aunt, that’s the place.”

      “And you’ve seen it before?”

      “Scores of times, dear.”

      “Then why do you want to go now?”

      “Because it will be a pleasant row.”

      “Nonsense!” said Aunt Sophia shortly, “pulling those oars and making blisters on your hands. Well, you must have your own way, I suppose.”

      “All right, aunt. You won’t think it queer of us to desert you?”

      “Oh, you’re not going to desert me, James.”

      “Kitty will stay with you.”

      “No; she will not,” said the old lady, “I’m not going to deprive her of her treat.”

      “I shan’t mind, indeed, aunt,” cried Lady Scarlett.

      “Yes you would; and you shall not be disappointed, for I shall go too.”

      “You will, aunt?” cried Scarlett.

      “Yes; if you promise to be very careful. And you are sure the boat is safe?”

      “As safe as being on this lawn, my dear aunt. You trust to me. I am glad you are going.”

      Aunt Sophia looked at the frank manly face before her, saw the truth in the eager eyes, and her thin, yellow, careworn countenance relaxed into a smile.

      “Well, I’m going, James, because I don’t want to disappoint your little wife,” she said to him in a low tone; “but I don’t see what pleasure it can give you to have a disagreeable old woman with you in the boat.”

      They had moved off a little way from the others now, Scarlett having kept his arm round the old lady’s waist, evidently greatly to her gratification, though if it had been hinted at, she would have repudiated the fact with scorn.

      “Don’t you, auntie?” he said seriously. “Well, I’ll tell you.” He paused, then, and seemed to be thinking.

      “Well?” she said sharply; “why is it? Now you are making up a flowery speech.”

      “No,” he said softly. “I was thinking of how precious little a young fellow thinks of his mother till she has gone. Auntie, every now and then, when I look at you, there is a something that brings her back so much. That’s why I like to have you with me in this trip.”

      Aunt Sophia did not speak; but her hard sharp face softened more and more as she went into the house, to come out, ten minutes later, in one of the most far-spreading Tuscan straw-hats that ever covered the head of a maiden lady; and the marvel to her friends was that she should have been able to obtain so old-fashioned a production in these modern times.

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