'Yes. We think of a grammar-school, or a mastership, somewhere, when Willie's five years at Christchurch are up, and we have made up enough for a nest-egg.'
'That's what I should like! Ah! am I talking of what I know nothing about?' and she gave an earnest kiss. 'There, I'm presentable now! May Ernest only be in the farmer's leathern gaiters!'
'No chance of that, with so many gentlemen to equip him. But for your feet, you would do very well.'
For the fault of Kate Caergwent's face was want of glow, and this was fully supplied. The two plaits were picturesque, and Mrs. Hodnet's shawl of crimson silk, and the dark skirt, made a becoming garb; but walking was not easy, and the descent of the stair was a series of flaps, as she came into a sort of vestibule, containing staircase and big clock.
'Hermione descends to the sound of soft music!' exclaimed Lord Ernest, springing up to meet her; and they both stood still to laugh.
'Hail, hail, all hail! was the music,' she said.
'Yes, Miss Underwood,' grasping her hand mightily. 'I give you infinite credit for the mise en scene.'
'Undeserved!'
'Nay, stage-effect could not have been exceeded, though perhaps things went rather to the verge of sensation.—Katie, you are flushed still! Ought she not to be put between blankets, and dosed with water-gruel?'
'Then we ought "all to have a little water-gruel!"'