Sir Lucas Miller was an active, fussy, little gentleman of fifty-five, whose time was absorbed by tenants, shooting, the county club, and the Bench! Little did he suspect, how soon the pleasant current of his days was to be diverted. One evening after dinner,—a particularly good dinner,—the bold, adventurous, and cunning Wilhelmina, accompanied him to the smoking-room, and as he enjoyed a Havana, calmly proceeded to lay her plans before him.
Everything had been most carefully considered: the whole itinerary minutely sketched; reasons for the expedition were confidently advanced, and dilated on, and when at last, Wilhelmina had ceased to speak, she discovered that her communication had left her father speechless! For quite a surprising interval, he remained silent,—Sir Lucas was thinking things over! He liked to see his pretty, lively girls flitting about the house and tennis courts, but it had never once dawned on him, that they craved either change, or other diversions. "Why, they had the Hunt Ball in January,—weather permitting,—the cricket week in July,—also weather permitting!"
In his opinion, they were remarkably well off; and as Billy, his favourite, had carefully unfolded her schemes, he could scarcely believe his own ears.
"Close the house for twelve months! take you all abroad!" he cried at last. "What a monstrous idea. How about the estate, and the shooting?"
"You have an excellent agent, Dad, I've often heard you say so,—and now you may as well give him something to do. You know you're one of the people who keep a dog,—and bark yourself!"
"Rubbish! rubbish! preposterous nonsense!"
"I know you won't mind, dear, if I speak a little plainly. Looking at it from our point of view, do you think you are quite playing the game? You and the Mater have had your good times! You talk of Ascot, Scotland, and Paris; of dances and balls, operas, and races. Now we should like to be in a position, to enjoy the same experiences. We are very ready to be amused: or even employed; but there is not enough work here for the four of us. Are we always to content ourselves with visiting old women, rearing Buff Orpingtons, and finding our chief excitement in scraps of village news! Why, it was only yesterday, that Baby ran the whole way home, to tell us that the Postman's parrot was dead! I can jog along all right, I'm not in my first youth, and I never was pretty; and being the eldest, I can find plenty of occupation, and interest of sorts; but, dear Daddy, do consider the three girls; please think of what I've said," and Wilhelmina patted her parent encouragingly on the shoulder, and walked out of the room.
In the end, after some remarkably stormy scenes, Billy prevailed; for Billy, as her mother complained, "could twist her father round her little finger." Then what Brenda termed, the "great Exodus of the Millers" actually took place, and poor Lady Miller found herself with her husband, four daughters, two maids and a mountain of luggage, carried off to Paris; and from Paris they journeyed to Lucerne.
At Lucerne, to his audible consternation, Sir Lucas was thrust into the too prominent post of chaperon—his wife having declared that her health was not equal to society. Nevertheless, she took a certain amount of comfort in a sofa, her lace work, and patience cards,—although the rock-garden, was far, far away!
At first, Sir Lucas instinctively shrank from following five grown-up women into a dining-room, or restaurant; but most of his party were so handsome as to draw all eyes, and in this fact, he found considerable compensation; also, when he beheld other men doing similar duty, he became more resigned; and by and by actually began to enjoy this amazing, and absolute change! He and his girls played golf on the Sonnenberg, and made excursions, whilst her ladyship and maid, sat in the shade, listening to the band, or ventured on a little shopping, purchasing Swiss embroidery, and Italian tortoise-shell.