Chapter Six.
Bertrand.
“But the unkind and the unruly,
And the sort who eat unduly,
Theirs is quite a different story.”
Good and Bad Children: Louis Stevenson.
They were just beginning tea, and Ruby’s tongue was going fast as she described to Miss Hortensia all that happened that afternoon, while Mavis sat half-dreamily wondering what the fairy lady had meant by saying she might tell her cousin about her “if she could,” when there came a sudden and unusual sound that made them all start. It was the clanging of the great bell at the principal entrance on the south side—the entrance by which, you remember, all visitors, except those coming by sea, came to the castle.
“Who can that be?” exclaimed Ruby, jumping up and looking very pleased—Ruby loved any excitement. “Can it be father? What fun if he’s come to surprise us! Only I hope he won’t have forgotten our presents. He generally asks us what we want before he comes.”
Mavis had grown a little pale; somehow the things that Ruby was frightened of never alarmed her, and yet she was more easily startled by others that Ruby rather enjoyed.
“I hope it isn’t a message to say that anything is the matter with dear father,” she said anxiously.
Miss Hortensia got up from her seat and went to the door. She did not seem frightened, but still rather uneasy.