“But it is at such a time!”
“Yes, that is the worst of it. I have thought it over; but while he is in this mood, the making him feel victimized and interfered with has a worse effect than the letting him have his swing.”
“What is he doing now, I wonder? Here’s his sermon-paper on the table, and a Greek Testament, and Hints on Decorating Churches, with ‘Constance Strangeways’ on the first leaf—no other book. How long will this saturnalia last?”
“Up to the Ordination, I fear. You know the good people have contrived to put bazaar, races, and ball, all into the Ember Week, and they are the great object of the young ladies’ visit. Could you have him home for a quiet week first?”
“It would not be a quiet week; Edith is in the way of most of these affairs; besides, to open fire about these young ladies might just be putting nonsense into an innocent head. Now, I’ve not seen your Rectory!”
The said Rectory was in a decided state of fresh, not to say raw, novelty outside, though the old trees and garden a little softened its hard grays and strong reds; but it promised to look well when crumbling and weather-stain had done their work. At the door they met the pretty young nurse, with a delicate sea-green embroidered cashmere bundle in her arms.
“Little Lady Green Mantle,” exclaimed Jenny.
“Erin-go-bragh,” said Julius. “Rose clung to her colours in spite of all predictions about ‘the good people.’ Asleep of course,” as Jenny took her and uncovered her face. “She won’t exhibit her eyes, but they are quite proper coloured.”
“Yes, I see she is like Raymond!”
“Do you? They all say she is a perfect Charnock, though how they know I can’t guess. There,” after a little more baby-worship, “you may take her Emma.”