where sleepy little Mary had closed her bright eyes for the night, and "darling" Denham lay in a cot beside her, equally oblivious of the funny kitten and of dear godmamma. Frank and Lucy were sitting a little apart, conversing in an under tone, but by no means with the gravity conventional to their position. But they grew silent soon-interested and attentive listeners to all that was passing. The Merrythorpes had opened the business of the evening, and shown the purport of their visit. "The idea was my wife's; I dare say I never should have thought of it," said Mr. Merrythorpe, looking admiringly and approvingly at the plump, good-natured, rather smartly dressed little lady opposite to him, who sat holding one of Louisa's hands tightly pressed between hers, as if she thus might impart her own sanguine hopes. "Once attach them to the children," she said encouragingly, "and I know all the rest will follow." "To think they should never even have seen them!" exclaimed Louisa, raising her handkerchief to her eyes. "It is the opportunity of all others," returned Mrs. Merrythorpe. "Mrs. Hamilton does not call at the cottage more than two or three times in a year, and I never know when she is coming. But we can prepare for this promised visit, which is evidently one of congratulation to Lucy. Now which of the children shall I have 'accidentally on purpose" with me. I don't think it signifies which; not, mind you, that I shall say at first that it is more than the child of a very dear friend." "I am proud of each and all of them," said William Hamilton, the father swelling at his heart. 66 And so will they be some day—and soon," said Mr. Merrythorpe; and, he added, "the choice rests, I think, between the young ones. Edward is too like the family to pass for a stranger." "Do you think so?" returned Louisa, as if the idea were new to her. "At times he is the image of Mr. Reginald; indeed he grows more like him every day I think." "And Mary is too like her mother," murmured William. "If she be so," said Louisa, "she would be the worst missionary of all: it might seem like insult to remind them of one"-she spoke with a sadness indescribable, but checked herself as she became conscious of the pain she was inflicting. "Forgive me, William, dearest William," she exclaimed, endeavouring to restrain her tears; "but can you wonder at a time like this, that I feel the culprit?" "Do not feel a culprit," replied her husband, with great tenderness, "until you are one. This is the first time you have ever grieved me; the first fault I have ever seen in you." "It must be my boy after all!" said Mrs. Merrythorpe gaily, and diverting the current of painful recollections which had set in. "And he possesses one inestimable advantage over his brother and sister; at least, if my suspicion be correct." "What is that?" "That he is safe not to betray his identity." If questioned to give an account of himself, he would be sure to say his name was "Darling Denham.” I don't believe the child has an idea of any other." "The blessing of a neglected education," exclaimed Mr. Merrythorpe; "my dear Rosy, you have given a capital reason for the preference." "My mother used to dote upon children," said William. "And she will dote upon yours," continued the kind-hearted little lady, who was supremely happy in arranging her peace-making stratagems. "Now, mind you send him early to-morrow morning, for I can't tell which day his grandmamma is coming. We shall be able to amuse him, and make him happy, if we keep him for a week. And do n't forget to let him bring his blue cachmere frock-he looks like an angel in it." People very seldom make captious objections when their children are compared to angels; and no one questioned Mrs. Merrythorpe's authority when she implied their predilection for cerulean garments. Perhaps, the parents rather felt they were in an angel's presence then. And yet they had not deciphered half the generous intentions and deep sympathies, which, moving in the hearts of their friends, were busy for them like the good genii of a fairy tale! |