“Well, to be sure!” quoth Mrs. Ledwich. “I knew Mr. Norman was very clever, but I declare I never thought of such as this! I will try my poor utmost for those interesting natives.”
“That youth has first-rate talents,” said Lord Cosham. “Do you know what he is designed for? I should like to bring him forward.”
“Ah!” said Dr. Hoxton. “The year I sent off May and Anderson was the proudest year of my life!”
“Upon my word!” declared Mrs. Elwood. “That Dr. Spencer is as good as a book, but Mr. Norman—I say, father, we will go without the new clock, but we’ll send somewhat to they men that built up the church, and has no minister.”
“A good move that,” said Dr. Spencer. “Worth at least twenty pounds. That boy has the temperament of an orator, if the morbid were but a grain less.”
“Oh, Margaret,” exclaimed Blanche. “Dr. Spencer made the finest speech you ever heard, only it was rather tiresome; and Norman made everybody cry—and Mary worse than all!”
“There is no speaking of it. One should live such things, not talk over them,” said Meta Rivers.
Margaret received the reports of the select few, who visited her upstairs, where she was kept quiet, and only heard the hum of the swarm, whom Dr. May, in vehement hospitality, had brought home to luncheon, to Ethel’s great dread, lest there should not be enough for them to eat.
Margaret pitied her sisters, but heard that all was going well; that Flora was taking care of the elders, and Harry and Mary were making the younger fry very merry at the table on the lawn. Dr. May had to start early to see a sick gardener at Drydale before coming on to Cocksmoor, and came up to give his daughter a few minutes.
“We get on famously,” he said. “Ethel does well when she is in for it, like Norman. I had no notion what was in the lad. They are perfectly amazed with his speech. It seems hard to give such as he is up to those outlandish places; but there, his speech should have taught me better—one’s best—and, now and then, he seems my best.”