“Why, my dear boy, you look rosy and well and fat, as if the Highland air agreed with you,” said his papa, stooping down and kissing him. “Why mamma, how grown he is. You will soon be a big boy, and able to play at cricket and football, and fish and shoot.”
“I can answer for it that he will soon be able to fish if he follows my directions,” observed the laird. “He already has some notion of throwing a fly, and I hope in the course of a year or two that he will turn out a good fisher.”
“I hope he will turn out a good boy,” observed Mrs Leslie, “for that is of more consequence, and I trust that he will become some day all we can desire.”
“No fear of that, granny, I hope,” observed Captain Vallery; “Norman is my son, and I intend that my son shall become a first-rate fellow.”
Norman felt proud of hearing his father speak of him in that way. At the same time he was afraid that somehow or other he might hear of his misdeeds, and be inclined to change his opinion. If his grandmamma and Fanny did not say what he had done, his mamma might, or Mrs Maclean, or the laird, or perhaps some of the servants, for he had never taken any pains to ingratiate himself with them.
This prevented him from feeling as happy as he otherwise might have been.
The laird insisted that the children should come down to dessert.
In consequence of their papa’s arrival, dinner was much later than usual.
Fanny would only accept a little fruit and a small cake, but Norman, who was hungry, and liked good things, eagerly gobbled up as many cakes and as much fruit as the laird, near whom he sat, offered him. When he had finished, without asking anybody’s leave, he put out his hand and helped himself to a peach which was in a plate temptingly near. Having finished it, he looked towards the dish of cakes which was at a little distance.
“I should like some of those, now,” he said, pointing at them.