“Is that the reason I must not have it?”
“No, don’t tease her,” the lady said kindly; and the other was taken.
“I wonder for what it is reserved!” the lady could not help saying, as she walked away.
“Let us watch her for a minute or two. What an embellishment children are! Ha! don’t you see—the little maid is fluttering and reddening—now! How pretty she looks! Ah! I see! here’s the favoured! Don’t you see that fine bronzed lad—Eton—one can see at a glance! It is a little drama. They are pretending to be strangers. He is turning over the goods with an air, she trying to look equally careless, but what a pretty carnation it is! Ha! ha! he has come to it—he has it! Now the acting is over, and they are having their laugh out! How joyously! What next! Oh! she begs off from keeping shop—she darts out to him, goes off in his hand—I declare that is the prettiest sight in the whole fair! I wonder who the little demoiselle can be?”
The great event of the day was over now with Blanche, and she greatly enjoyed wandering about with Hector and Tom. There was a post-office at Miss Cleveland’s stall, where, on paying sixpence, a letter could be obtained to the address of the inquirer. Blanche had been very anxious to try, but Flora had pronounced it nonsense; however, Hector declared that Flora was not his master, tapped at the sliding panel, and charmed Blanche by what she thought a most witty parody of his name as Achilles Lionsrock, Esquire. When the answer came from within, “Ship letter, sir, double postage,” they thought it almost uncanny; and Hector’s shilling was requited by something so like a real ship letter, that they had some idea that the real post had somehow transported itself thither. The interior was decidedly oracular, consisting of this one line, “I counsel you to persevere in your laudable undertaking.”
Hector said he wished he had any laudable undertaking, and Blanche tried to persuade Tom to try his fortune, but he pronounced that he did not care to hear Harvey Anderson’s trash—he knew his writing, though disguised, and had detected his shining boots below the counter. There Mr. George Rivers came up, and began to tease Blanche about the guards, asking her to take his fifteen shillings—or five-and-twenty, and who had got that one, which alone he wanted; till the poor child, after standing perplexed for some moments, looked up with spirit, and said, “You have no business to ask,” and, running away, took refuge in the back of Mrs. Hoxton’s marquee, where she found Ethel packing up for Miss Hoxton’s purchasers, and confiding to her that Mr. George Rivers was a horrid man, she ventured no more from her protection. She did, indeed, emerge, when told that papa was coming with Aubrey and Daisy and Miss Bracy, and she had the pleasure of selling to them some of her wares. Dr. May bargaining with her to her infinite satisfaction; and little Gertrude’s blue eyes opened to their full width, not understanding what could have befallen her sisters.
“And what is Ethel doing?” asked the doctor.
“Packing up parcels, papa,” and Ethel’s face was raised, looking very merry.
“Packing parcels! How long will they last tied up?” said Dr. May, laughing.
“Lasting is the concern of nothing in the fair, papa,” answered she, in the same tone.