I thought I could hear a murmured “Thank you, sir,” from the girl, but I could not be certain that she spoke. I shook hands with them, and went for a stroll on the other side of the bay.
CHAPTER V. MR. PERCIVALE.
When I reached home I found that Connie was already on her watch-tower. For while I was away, they had carried her out that she might see the life-boat. I followed her, and found the whole family about her couch, and with them Mr. Percivale, who was showing her some sketches that he had made in the neighbourhood. Connie knew nothing of drawing; but she seemed to me always to catch the feeling of a thing. Her remarks therefore were generally worth listening to, and Mr. Percivale was evidently interested in them. Wynnie stood behind Connie, looking over her shoulder at the drawing in her hand.
“How do you get that shade of green?” I heard her ask as I came up.
And then Mr. Percivale proceeded to tell her; from which beginning they went on to other things, till Mr. Percivale said—
“But it is hardly fair, Miss Walton; to criticise my work while you keep your own under cover.”
“I wasn’t criticising, Mr. Percivale; was I, Connie?”
“I didn’t hear her make a single remark, Mr. Percivale,” said Connie, taking her sister’s side.
To my surprise they were talking away with the young man as if they had known him for years, and my wife was seated at the foot of the couch, apparently taking no exception to the suddenness of the intimacy. I am afraid, when I think of it, that a good many springs would be missing from the world’s history if they might not flow till the papas gave their wise consideration to everything about the course they were to take.