“London makes children pale. I shall soon take her home to acquire a little colour. You must know Sir Henry has bitten us with his yachting tastes, and as soon as we can leave London, we are going to spend six weeks with the Walkinghames at Ryde, and rival you, Harry. I think Miss Leonora will be better at home, so we must leave her there. Lodgings and irregularities don’t suit people of her age.”
“Does home mean Stoneborough?” asked Norman.
“No. Old nurse has one of her deadly prejudices against Preston, and I would not be responsible for the consequences of shutting them up in the same nursery. Margaret would be distracted between them. No, miss, you shall make her a visit every day, and be fondled by your grandpapa.”
George began a conversation with Harry on nautical matters, and Norman tried to discover how Meta liked the yachting project, and found her prepared to think it charming. Hopes were expressed that Harry might be at Portsmouth, and a quantity of gay scheming ensued, with reiterations of the name of Walkinghame; while Norman had a sense of being wrapped in some gray mist, excluding him from participation in their enjoyments, and condemned his own temper as frivolous for being thus excited to discontent.
Presently, he heard George insisting that he and Harry should return in time for the evening party; and, on beginning to refuse, was amazed to find Harry’s only objection was on the score of lack of uniform.
“I don’t want you in one, sir,” said Flora.
“I have only one coat in the world, besides this,” continued Harry, “and that is all over tar.”
“George will see to that,” said Flora. “Don’t you think you would be welcome in matting, with an orange cowry round your neck?”
Norman, however, took a private opportunity of asking Harry if he was aware of what he was undertaking, and what kind of people they should meet.
“All English people behave much the same in a room,” said Harry, as if all society, provided it was not cannibal, were alike to him.