The old lady took out a drawer and laid it on the counter. It was full of kettle-holders, some made in wool-work, others in patch-work. Matilda looked at them very carefully one by one, and at last chose one in scarlet and bright yellow wool-work. When it was done up in a neat little packet and she had paid for it—sixpence—she handed it to Pembroke.
“That,” she said, “is a present for the gentleman. When I had tea with him I noticed that he hadn’t got one, and of course every family ought to have a kettle-holder. I should have liked to make one for him myself, but there hasn’t been time.”
VIII
Sir Franklin Ingleside did not use the kettle-holder. He hung it on a nail by the fire-place, and whenever he is asked about it, or people smile at its very striking colours, he says, “I value that very highly; that is the profit that I made out of a toy-shop which I once kept.”
THE GARDENS AND THE NILE
THE GARDENS AND THE NILE
THE STORY OF SPEKE
In Kensington Gardens, close to Lancaster Gate, there rises from the grass beside the path leading direct to “Physical Energy” a column of red granite, bearing the words “In Memory of Speke. Victoria Nyanza and the Nile. 1864.” Anyone curious enough to stand for a while near this column and listen to the nurses and children who pass would hear some strange suggestions as to why the column is there, and who or what Speke was; but for the most part the answer to the question is: “I don’t know,” or, “How should I know?” or, “Inquire of your pa”; or, by the more daring, “Speke was a great man.”
“Yes, but what kind of a great man? What did he do?”
“Do? Oh! [airily] he did great things. That’s why he has a monument—monuments are put up only to great men.”
“Yes, nurse, but do tell me what Speke did?”