"Oh, yes; I know that! But I heard mother say his niece was not at all a suitable wife for Uncle Richard, and grandfather has never forgiven him for marrying her."
The children strolled idly about the grounds, discussing their elders, and putting their own constructions upon their remarks and actions, as children do.
"If that kid was not coming we might have gone down to the beach," Lionel said at length, regretfully. "I wonder how much longer we shall have to wait before he arrives!"
They had reached the lodge by this time. It was a pretty, rose-covered cottage adjoining the main road, inhabited by Groves, Sir Richard's coachman, and his wife.
Mrs. Groves, a portly person in a lilac cotton gown, was whitening her doorstep as the children approached. They explained they were on the look-out for their cousin, and willingly accepted her invitation to come into the lodge and wait.
They had been in Mrs. Groves' parlour before. It was a tiny room, with pots of geraniums in full flower on the window-seat. The walls were covered with a bright crimson paper, and were adorned with coloured prints, and various photographs and nick-nacks. A round mahogany table, brightly polished, stood in the middle of the room, with a basket laden with wax fruit and flowers, covered with a glass shade, in the centre, which was Ruth's especial admiration.
The children sat on a little chintz-covered sofa near the open window, from which they could see the highroad, and chatted and laughed without restraint; they were very different from the subdued, silent pair who had breakfasted with their grandfather that morning.
"This is the dearest, sweetest little room I ever saw!" Ruth exclaimed, looking around with approving eyes. "It is so cosy and comfortable! Mrs. Groves, I would far rather live here than at the Manor House!"
Mrs. Groves laughingly shook her head; but she was secretly very gratified.
"It's bright and cheerful," she replied; "and I do think a home should be that, if it's ever so small!"