“I see the boat coming for you, with Cuddie in it—below the bend of the river there,” said Effie; “but you will have time to look at my young apricot, and tell me whether you think there is any chance of its bearing.”
She received a very broad hint about setting her heart upon favourites, but was comforted notwithstanding, by an encouraging opinion about the apricot: Walter was further told that he might just mention the asparagus and the apricot together in the first letter he should write after hearing of his father’s arrival.
“Why, father! do you really mean to write to us?” cried Walter, in joyful surprise.
“No, no,” said Effie. “He means that we shall hear from Cuddie of his getting to London.”
“I mean that if, by grace, I get safe through the dangers of the deep waters, I shall give you the opportunity of being thankful for me.”
“And when will it be, father?”
“The times are not in our own hands. Effie, you say the boat is to be chiefly your charge.”
“Yes, father, you know I have practised ferrying a good deal lately, on purpose.”
“She is more sure of her oar than I,” observed Walter.
“What of that? Why do you puff her up? Except One guide the boat, as well as build the house, we labour in vain, with our weak arm of flesh.”