but it's good
in the end. Growing pains, you know!"
"Yes!" said Hilary softly. It was good to find someone who understood
without asking questions or forcing confidence. "And you?" she asked
presently, raising her eyes to his with a smile of inquiry--"what have
you been doing?"
"I? Oh! making discoveries also, I fear; among others, the disagreeable
one that I can no longer work as I used, or as other men work, and must,
therefore, be satisfied to be left behind in the race. But we are
getting melancholy, and it's a shame even to think of disagreeable
subjects in a place like this. What a perfect view! I should never
tire of looking at those mountains."
"Aren't they beautiful? That is Coniston Old Man right before us, and
those are the Langdale Pikes over there to the right. I like them best
of all, for they stand out so well, and in winter, when they are covered
with snow, they look quite awful. Oh, I am so glad you have come! We
generally have good weather in June, and we will have such lovely
drives--"
Meantime Mr Bertrand and Miss Carr were having an animated
conversation.
"What do you think of my three little girls?" had been his first
question, and Miss Carr laughed derisively as she answered--
"Little girls, indeed! They will be grown-up women before you know
where you are, Austin. I like that young Norah. There is something
very taking about her bright, little face. Miss Consequence has
improved, I think; not quite so well pleased with herself, which means
more pleasing to other people. She looks well in that white dress. As
for Miss Lettice, she is quite unnecessarily good-looking."
"Isn't she lovely?" queried Mr Bertrand eagerly. "And you will find
her just as sweet as she looks. They have been very good and contented
all spring, but it has been in the expectation of your visit, and the
changes which you were to make. We are looking to you to solve all our
difficulties."
"Very kind of you, I am sure. It's not an easy position to fill. The
difficulty, so far as I can see, is compressed into the next three
years. After that you will have to face it, Austin, and come back to
town. You can keep on this house for a summer place, if you wish, but
the boys will be turning out into the world by then, and you ought to be
in town to keep a home for them. Hilary will be twenty-one, the other
two not far behind, and it is not fair to keep girls of that age in this
out-of-the-way
|