"My darling," said his mother. "Now let me see what a good appetite you have. You must be hungry too, Gratian, my boy. You have a long walk home before you."
Gratian was hungry, but he hardly felt as if he could eat—there was so much to look at and to think about. Everything was so dainty and pretty; though he was well accustomed at the Farm to the most perfect cleanliness and neatness, it was new to him to see the sparkling silver, the tea-kettle boiling on the spirit-lamp with a cheerful sound, the pretty china and glass, and the variety of bread and cakes to tempt poor Fergus's appetite. And the lady herself—with her forget-me-not eyes and sweet voice. Gratian felt as if he were in fairyland.
[CHAPTER IX.]
MUSIC AND COUNSEL
"What is this strange new life, this finer sense,
Which lifts me out of self, and bids me
... rise to glorious thought
High hopes, and inarticulate fantasies?"
"Voices."—Songs of Two Worlds
After tea Fergus's mother turned to the two boys.
"Shall I play to you now?" she said, "or shall we first show Gratian the pictures?"