“TO HOLD UP FOR THE KISS.”
UNBIDDEN GUESTS.
I.
Notary van Elst generally comes home from his office about five in the afternoon, and his return to the bosom of his family is a pretty sight.
The Van Elsts’ neighbour,—unsociable old bachelor that he was,—noticing how eagerly this return was watched for every afternoon and greeted with joyful acclamation, had a way of turning away his head, and muttering crossly, “I might have known that sort of thing too, if only——”
In the bendy[[38]] sent to fetch Van Elst, the curly head of his eldest child was always to be seen; Nonnie and little Ada were always watching for him on the verandah steps when he drove up; and no sooner did the wheels crunch over the gravel than a pretty little wife would come flying out with the brightest, pleasantest face imaginable, which she never forgot to hold up for the kiss which was always forthcoming, unless the children interfered, clinging about him as they did, and clamouring for attention.
Then came an interval of peace. Papa went to dress, and mamma sent the little ones out for a walk; and when the old bachelor returned to his verandah,—having been away for his bath meanwhile,—he would see his gentle little neighbour seated at the tea-tray as placidly as if she had not been busy the whole day running here and there,—now urging a perverse “boy” to work, now disposing of a contumacious pedlar or unreasonable lengànan,[[39]] or, most frequent occupation of all, flying to soothe the children in the countless infantine woes and accidents which were always occurring.
“WHEN THE OLD BACHELOR RETURNED TO HIS VERANDAH.”