‘I think I must ask for a vote in favour of the election of a president, or chairman—if there was any place on which to sit,’ said Mr. Banneret. ‘We cannot afford to spend the whole evening gazing at these ruins, worthy as they are of our admiration.’
‘There is no one so fitted for the position, sir, as yourself,’ said Falkland Aylmer, ‘and I beg to propose that you be elected by acclamation to that honourable position.’
‘I suppose I can second the motion,’ said Hermione, ‘though I don’t believe they have adult female suffrage in England yet; of course it’s coming with other enlightened reforms.’
‘I believe Dad knows all the Walter Scott [397] ]literature by heart,’ said Vanda—‘stock, lock, and barrel, or rather, prose, poetry, and miscellany. Those who are for—hold up the right hand. Against—none: carried unanimously. Who will contribute the immortal invocation? Behold the hour and the man!’ as Eric Banneret stepped forward, in answer to a signal from his mother.
That young man, who strongly resembled his mother in appearance and leading characteristics, as sons are wont to do by the acknowledged rules of heredity, responded with a look of assent to Mrs. Banneret’s suggestive smile of approval, and, without further delay, began with the opening lines:—
‘If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright,
Go visit it by the pale moonlight;
For the gay beams of lightsome day
Gild, but to flout, the ruins grey.
When the broken arches are black in night,