Such a day! The spring of the year in the sky, and on the river, and on the land. September at its happiest, fresh and young, and gladdening as a maiden stepping with shining eyes and light feet into a world that she knows she is going to brighten.
Blue in the sky, blue deeper and sun-flecked in the river, a glory of roses in the garden, a yellow splendour of wattles in the bush.
Tea was spread on the lawn, not under a tree, but out in the sunshine that no one could get enough of. Even the cakes had a light-hearted look; and as for the shining kettle on the lamp, it was absolutely bubbling with good spirits. They were all there,—the seven and Mrs. Hassal, all mentally on tiptoe, [275] ]physically in comfortable attitudes, sitting or lying round the cloth.
The Captain and Esther were expected every minute.
Peter wanted to begin on the little cakes that had such a fascinating bit of peel on the top of each.
“Leth go halveth in one, Nell,” he said; “we ought to tathte them firtht,—prapth you forgot the thugar.”
But Nellie assured him they were sweetness itself, and removed the plate into the middle of the cloth, where they could not lead his fingers into temptation.
She consoled him with two lumps of sugar, and he gave Poppet one and bet her he could suck his for a longer time than she could without it breaking.
Alan was hammering at a tipsy-looking erection of posts halfway down the drive, that said “Welcome” in pink and white roses, and threatened to fall and engulf any one passing underneath. Bunty had made it, Alan was only trying to ensure the safety of Esther’s head.
Near the door was another arch; it was very low—both the Captain and Esther would have to go under it doubled up: it was done in ferns and red geraniums and blue flag lilies and yellow “bunny rabbits,” and it said “Wellcome.”