"They were built by squatters fifty or sixty years ago. One isuninhabited; the foresters are going to take it down, as soon as the oldman who lives in the other is dead, poor old fellow! Look--there he is--Imust go and speak to him. He is so deaf you will hear all our secrets."
The old man stood bareheaded in the sun, leaning on his stick at thefront of his cottage. His stiff features relaxed into a slow smile asMargaret went up and spoke to him. Mr. Lennox hastily introduced thetwo figures into his sketch, and finished up the landscape with asubordinate reference to them--as Margaret perceived, when the timecame for getting up, putting away water, and scraps of paper, andexhibiting to each other their sketches. She laughed and blushed Mr.
Lennox watched her countenance.
"Now, I call that treacherous," said she. "I little thought you were makingold Isaac and me into subjects, when you told me to ask him the historyof these cottages."
"It was irresistible. You can"t know how strong a temptation it was. Ihardly dare tell you how much I shall like this sketch."
He was not quite sure whether she heard this latter sentence before shewent to the brook to wash her palette. She came back rather flushed, butlooking perfectly innocent and unconscious. He was glad of it, for thespeech had slipped from him unawares--a rare thing in the case of aman who premeditated his actions so much as Henry Lennox.
The aspect of home was all right and bright when they reached it. Theclouds on her mother"s brow had cleared off under the propitiousinfluence of a brace of carp, most opportunely presented by aneighbour. Mr. Hale had returned from his morning"s round, and wasawaiting his visitor just outside the wicket gate that led into the garden.
He looked a complete gentleman in his rather threadbare coat and well-worn hat.Margaret was proud of her father; she had always a fresh andtender pride in seeing how favourably he impressed every stranger; stillher quick eye sought over his face and found there traces of someunusual disturbance, which was only put aside, not cleared away.
Mr. Hale asked to look at their sketches.
"I think you have made the tints on the thatch too dark, have you not?" ashe returned Margaret"s to her, and held out his hand for Mr. Lennox"s,which was withheld from him one moment, no more.
"No, papa! I don"t think I have. The house-leek and stone-crop havegrown so much darker in the rain. Is it not like, papa?" said she, peepingover his shoulder, as he looked at the figures in Mr. Lennox"s drawing.
"Yes, very like. Your figure and way of holding yourself is capital. Andit is just poor old Isaac"s stiff way of stooping his long rheumatic back.
What is this hanging from the branch of the tree? Not a bird"s nest,surely."
"Oh no! that is my bonnet. I never can draw with my bonnet on; itmakes my head so hot. I wonder if I could manage figures. There are somany people about here whom I should like to sketch."
"I should say that a likeness you very much wish to take you wouldalways succeed in," said Mr. Lennox. "I have great faith in the power ofwill. I think myself I have succeeded pretty well in yours." Mr. Hale hadpreceded them into the house, while Margaret was lingering to plucksome roses, with which to adorn her morning gown for dinner.
"A regular London girl would understand the implied meaning of thatspeech," thought Mr. Lennox. "She would be up to looking throughevery speech that a young man made her for the arriere-pensee of acompliment. But I don"t believe Margaret,--Stay!" exclaimed he, "Let mehelp you;" and he gathered for her some velvety cramoisy roses thatwere above her reach, and then dividing the spoil he placed two in hisbutton-hole, and sent her in, pleased and happy, to arrange her flowers.
The conversation at dinner flowed on quietly and agreeably. There wereplenty of questions to be asked on both sides--the latest intelligencewhich each could give of Mrs. Shaw"s movements in Italy to beexchanged; and in the interest of what was said, the unpretendingsimplicity of the parsonage-ways--above all, in the neighbourhood ofMargaret, Mr. Lennox forgot the little feeling of disappointment withwhich he had at first perceived that she had spoken but the simple truthwhen she had described her father"s living as very small.
"Margaret, my child, you might have gathered us some pears for ourdessert," said Mr. Hale, as the hospitable luxury of a freshly-decantedbottle of wine was placed on the table.
Mrs. Hale was hurried. It seemed as if desserts were impromptu andunusual things at the parsonage; whereas, if Mr. Hale would only havelooked behind him, he would have seen biscuits and marmalade, andwhat not, all arranged in formal order on the sideboard. But the idea ofpears had taken possession of Mr. Hale"s mind, and was not to be got ridof.
"There are a few brown beurres against the south wall which are worthall foreign fruits and preserves. Run, Margaret, and gather us some."
"I propose that we adjourn into the garden, and eat them there" said Mr.
Lennox. "Nothing is so delicious as to set one"s teeth into the crisp, juicyfruit, warm and scented by the sun. The worst is, the wasps areimpudent enough to dispute it with one, even at the very crisis andsummit of enjoyment.
He rose, as if to follow Margaret, who had disappeared through thewindow he only awaited Mrs. Hale"s permission. She would rather havewound up the dinner in the proper way, and with all the ceremonieswhich had gone on so smoothly hitherto, especially as she and Dixonhad got out the finger-glasses from the store-room on purpose to be ascorrect as became General Shaw"s widow"s sister, but as Mr. Hale gotup directly, and prepared to accompany his guest, she could onlysubmit.
"I shall arm myself with a knife," said Mr. Hale: "the days of eating fruitso primitively as you describe are over with me. I must pare it andquarter it before I can enjoy it."
