“Oh, papa, papa! thank you!” cried Ethel, enraptured, as soon as he came into the room. “How very kind of you! How I have wished to see the Grange, and all Norman talks about! Oh, dear! I am so glad you are going there too!”
“Why, what should you do with me?” said Dr. May, who felt and looked depressed at this taking up of the world again.
“Oh, dear! I should not like it at all without you! It would be no fun at all by ourselves. I wish Flora would come home. How pleased she will be! Papa, I do wish you would look as if you didn’t mind it! I can’t enjoy it if you don’t like going.”
“I shall when I am there, my dear,” said the doctor affectionately, putting his arm around her as she stood by him. “It will be a fine day’s sport for you.”
“But can’t you like it beforehand, papa?”
“Not just this minute, Ethel,” said he, with his bright, sad smile. “All I like just now is my girl’s not being able to do without me; but we’ll do the best we can. So your flock acquitted themselves brilliantly? Who is your Senior Wrangler?”
Ethel threw herself eagerly into the history of the examination, and had almost forgotten the invitation till she heard the front door open. Then it was not she, but Margaret, who told Flora—Ethel could not, as she said, enjoy what seemed to sadden her father. Flora received it much more calmly. “It will be very pleasant,” said she; “it was very kind of papa to consent. You will have Richard and Norman, Margaret, to be with you in the evening.”
And, as soon as they went upstairs, Ethel began to write down the list of prizes in her school journal, while Flora took out the best evening frocks, to study whether the crape looked fresh enough.
The invitation was a convenient subject of conversation, for Norman had so much to tell his sisters of the curiosities they must look for at the Grange, that he was not obliged to mention Cocksmoor. He did not like to mortify Ethel by telling her his intense disgust, and he knew he was about to do what she would think a great injury by speaking to his father on the subject; but he thought it for her real welfare, and took the first opportunity of making to his father and Margaret a most formidable description of Ethel’s black-hole. It quite alarmed Margaret, but the doctor smiled, saying, “Ay, ay, I know the face Norman puts on if he looks into a cottage.”
“Well,” said Norman, with some mortification, “all I know is, that my head ached all the rest of the day.”