“We are to go to Cousin Ambrose Peyton’s to-morrow,” said Persis. “Grandma will not go with us. I think she feels a little bit tired from all this junketing, and it wears upon her feelings, too, so Cousin Dolly Peyton is going with us. We must call her cousin, although she is four removes. I can scarcely keep them all straight in my mind; can you, Annis? They all seem, however, to have the various ramifications at their fingers’ ends. I am quite anxious to see Cousin Ambrose. He is an old bachelor, and lives on the adjoining place. You know that is where I went when I was a tot and ran away from my nurse.”
The stately old gentleman who received them the next day, although showing a kindly interest in Annis, scanned Persis narrowly as he took her face between his hands and looked at her.
“So you are little Persis,” he said; “little Persis. I remember you.”
“And I remember you,” returned Persis. “I ran away and came to see you once upon a time. You fed me on ripe gooseberries and let me play with that very Venus over there. I remember when they came for me I had dressed up the statue in one of your silk handkerchiefs and was having a fine time. Oh, mayn’t I go see the garden where the gooseberry bushes grew? And the old well; is it still there?”
“Still there. If you will excuse me, Cousin Dolly will go with you and show them to you, while I devote myself to Miss Brown.” And the courtly bow accompanying the words showed Persis that there was no lack of gallantry in the suggestion that she should go without him.
“I am going to ask your acceptance of the little statuette,” he said before they parted, giving the exquisitely modelled figure into her hands.
“Oh, no,” protested Persis. “You have always had it just in that place. It seems too bad to rob you of it.”
“The pleasure would be much greater if I knew it was in your possession,” returned the old gentleman, with his most dignified bow. “I beg of you to do me the honor of accepting it.” And Persis could but consent, feeling that he really wanted her to have it.
He also gave to Annis a delicately carved little ivory box which she admired, and then he led the way into the library, where the family portraits hung.
Here Persis caught sight of an old desk in one corner. “I just love that old desk. How well I remember it!” she exclaimed. “You took me on your lap and let me write supposed letters with real ink,—not only black, but red. I can remember what a joy it was to be allowed to do that. I had always longed to dabble in ink, which was one of the forbidden things. I’ve no doubt I made a spectacle of myself with it.”