“I can sit here and watch you; and I shall like that exceedingly. I shall see you gathering the snow, and building up your man: and if you will turn about and shake your hand this way now and then, I shall be sure to observe it, and I shall think you are saying something kind to me.”
“I wish the snow would come,” cried George, stamping with impatience.
“I do not believe mamma will let us,” observed Matilda. “She prohibits our going into Mr Grey’s field.”
“But she shall let us, that one time,” cried George. “I will ask papa, and Mr Grey, and Sydney, and Uncle Philip, and all. When will Uncle Philip come again?”
“Some time soon, I dare say. But, George, we must do as your mamma pleases about my plan, you know. If she does not wish you to go into Mr Grey’s field, you can make your snow-man somewhere else.”
“But then you won’t see us. But I know what I will do. I will speak to Sydney, and he and Fanny and Mary shall make you a snow-man yonder, where we should have made him.”
Mrs Enderby pressed the boy to her, and laughed while she thanked him, but said it was not the same thing seeing the Greys make a snow-man.
“Why, George!” said Matilda, contemptuously.
“When will Uncle Philip come?” asked the boy, who was of opinion that Uncle Philip could bring all things to pass.
“Why, I will tell you how it is, my dear. Uncle Philip is very busy learning his lessons.”