“Where’s Aubrey?” asked Mary.
“With Norman. Norman said he would not let him go into the black-hole, so he has got him out of doors. Ethel, we must come out! You don’t know what an atmosphere it is! Blanche, go out to Norman!”
“Flora, Flora! you don’t consider,” said Ethel, in an agony.
“Yes, yes. It is not at all cold. Let them have their presents out of doors and eat their buns.”
Richard and Mr. Wilmot agreed with Flora, and the party were turned out. Ethel did own, when she was in the open air, “that it had been rather hot.”
Norman’s face was a sight, as he stood holding Aubrey in his arms, to gratify the child’s impatience. The stifling den, the uncouth aspect of the children, the head girl so very ragged a specimen, thoroughly revolted his somewhat fastidious disposition. This was Ethel’s delight! to this she made so many sacrifices! this was all that her time and labour had effected! He did not wish to vex her but it was more than he could stand.
However, Ethel was too much engrossed to look for sympathy. It was a fine spring day, and on the open space of the common the arrangements were quickly made. The children stood in a long line, and the baskets were unpacked. Flora and Ethel called the names, Mary and Blanche gave the presents, and assuredly the grins, courtesies, and pulls of the forelock they elicited, could not have been more hearty for any of Miss Rivers’s treasures. The buns and the kettles of tea followed—it was perfect delight to entertainers and entertained, except when Mary’s dignity was cruelly hurt by Norman’s authoritatively taking a kettle out of her hands, telling her she would be the death of herself or somebody else, and reducing her to the mere rank of a bun distributor, which Blanche and Aubrey could do just as well; while he stalked along with a grave and resigned countenance, filling up the cups held out to him by timid-looking children. Mary next fell in with Granny Hall, who had gone into such an ecstasy over Blanche and Aubrey, that Blanche did not know which way to look; and Aubrey, in some fear that the old woman might intend to kiss him, returned the compliments by telling her she was “ugly up in her face,” at which she laughed heartily, and uttered more vehement benedictions.
Finally, the three best children, boys and girls, were to be made fit to be seen, and recommended by Mr. Wilmot to the Sunday-school and penny club at Stoneborough, and, this being proclaimed and the children selected, the assembly dispersed, Mr. Wilmot rejoicing Ethel and Richard by saying, “Well, really, you have made a beginning. There is an improvement in tone among those children, that is more satisfactory than any progress they may have made.”
Ethel’s eyes beamed, and she hurried to tell Flora. Richard coloured and gave his quiet smile, then turned to put things in order for their return.
“Will you drive home, Richard?” said Norman, coming up to him.