While Mr. Phillips talked to Peggy about his children, and especially of Emily, the girls both examined his countenance and drew their conclusions as to his character. He was not so handsome as Mr. Brandon, being smaller and more insignificant-looking, and his fair complexion had not stood so well the constant exposure to the weather under an Australian sun as Mr. Brandon's dark one, but his smile was remarkably bright, and though his manner was very gentle and pleasing, he did not seem to want for decision of character.
"I doubt Emily is changed out of my knowledge. I have not seen her since she was four years and a half old, when you brought her to Melbourne for me to see, and when she coaxed me out of far more lollies than were good for her."
"I will bring her up in summer, and you will acknowledge that you would know her anywhere. As for you, she will know you quite well, for did not we get your likeness taken at the time, and she shows it to every one as that of her dear old nurse."
"I hope you're no spoiling the bairn."
"Oh! no, not much—at least, if we are, we will get Miss Melville to counteract our bad treatment."
"You're no to make Miss Melville a terror—that's no fair. But the wee things after Harriett, how do you call them?"
"Constance, Hubert, and Eva."
"Well, they should save the eldest from being destroyed by foolish indulgence, for Emily and Harriett should be learned to give way to them."
"Everybody gives way to all of the five—but you must not say they are spoiled, either. Harriett and Emily, too, learned a lot of monkey tricks on board ship. The gentlemen took so much notice of them, and encouraged a good deal of impertinence in the children."
"A ship is a bad school for bairns," said Peggy. "Mine will be come some length before we go on board, and are not like to be so much taken notice of. Does Mrs. Phillips like England?"