Therewith the private interview period set in, and Babie made such use of her share of it, that when Lina was produced in the drawing-room before dinner she sat on Cecil’s knee, and gravely observed that she had a verse to repeat to him—
“The phantom blackcock of Kilnaught
Is a marvellous bird yet uncaught;
Go out in all weather,
You see not a feather,
Yet a marvellous work it has wrought,
That phantom blackcock of Kilnaught.”
“What is that verse you are saying, Lina?” said her mother.
Lina trotted across and repeated it, while Cecil shook his head at wicked Babie.
“I hope you don’t learn nursery rhymes, about phantoms and ghosts, Lina?” said Mrs. Robert Brownlow.
“This is an original poem, Aunt Ellen,” replied Babie, gravely.
“More original than practical,” said John. “You haven’t accounted for the pronoun?”
“Oh, never mind that. Great poets are above rules. I want Essie to promise us bridesmaids blackcock tails in our hats.”
“My dear!” said her aunt, in serious reproof, shocked at the rapidity of the young lady’s ideas.
“Or, at least,” added Babie, “if she won’t, you’ll give us blackcock lockets, Cecil. They would be lovely—you know—enamelled!”