“I tharcely drop any blotht now,” he said; “I’ve gone into theven times, I’m learning peninthulath, and I’ve thtopped lithping.”
As no one disputes any of his statements, and as no one smiles openly, he is quite happy in his present occupation. Poppet seems to have grown; she is thinner than ever,—arms and legs, as Bunty says, and nothing else worth mentioning. He forgets the heart; it is just the same dear loving tender little one, with room for all the world, and one warm, special corner for himself.
Bunty’s collar this afternoon is a sign of the times; it is perfectly white and almost unrumpled; the whole of it is visible, and his jacket does not fit extraordinarily badly. His mouth is firm, but hardly strikes one as obstinate now, and the brooding light [280] ]that used to be in his eyes shows very seldom. Pip says if some day the boy becomes a great hero it will not surprise any one in the family at all, despite those early days he is so bitterly ashamed of.
This is quite a different Nellie from the one who went over this same lawn in her first long dress. More beautiful if possible: the shining hair and dewy, long-lashed eyes, the clear colouring, and slim, straight figure are just the same, but there is a deeper look in the young eyes, a sweeter, graver expression about the young mouth. She will be that gladdening thing, an exceedingly beautiful woman; she will be more, a good woman and a noble.
Meg,—well, Meg is Meg.
A little thin and pale-looking from the fever, a little quieter, and, if possible, even more sweet, more womanly and lovable than ever. Alan is at one side of her, her family at the other; so far they possess her equally, and perhaps the standing between is the happiest time of her life.
Pip is stretched on the ground, six feet of splendid young manhood; his laugh is good to hear, his cheeks have the tint of health, he measures a surprising number of inches round the chest. Surely it is reasonable to suppose his blighted affections have not done him irreparable mischief! Peter lets [281] ]a light in on the subject. He has finished the cakes, and is at liberty again to pour out all the events of note that have happened during Esther’s absence.
He has informed her that “the catht had four kittenth, that his betht thuith grown too thmall for his legth, that the butcher thent the chopth and thteak too late for breakfatht, and Meg got another one named Thmitherth, and that a thtorm of hail had thmathed the thtudy window.”
Then his eye fell upon his eldest brother, and his young catholic mind found an item of news concerning him.
“An’ Mith Joneth ith married to the man at the thauthpan thop; me and Poppet peeped in at the church, and the looked thplendid. And Pip wath awful mad, but he’th gone on Mith Thybil Moore now.”