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      Lord Ormont and His Aminta – Volume 3

      CHAPTER XII

      MORE OF CUPER'S BOYS

      Entering the dining-room at the appointed minute in a punctual household, Mrs. Lawrence informed the company that she had seen a Horse Guards orderly at the trot up the street. Weyburn said he was directing a boy to ring the bell of the house for him. Lord Ormont went to the window.

      'Amends and honours?' Mrs. Lawrence hummed and added an operatic flourish of an arm. Something like it might really be imagined. A large square missive was handed to the footman. Thereupon the orderly trotted off.

      My lord took seat at table, telling the footman to lay 'that parcel' beside the clock on the mantelpiece. Aminta and Mrs. Lawrence gave out a little cry of bird or mouse, pitiable to hear: they could not wait, they must know, they pished at sight of plates. His look deferred to their good pleasure, like the dead hand of a clock under key; and Weyburn placed the missive before him, seeing by the superscription that it was not official.

      It was addressed, in the Roman hand of a boy's copybook writing, to

      The earl's eyebrows creased up over the address; they came down low on the contents.

      He resumed his daily countenance. 'Nothing of importance,' he said to the ladies.

      Mrs. Lawrence knocked the table with her knuckles. Aminta put out a hand, in sign of her wish.

      'Pray let me see it.'

      'After lunch will do.'

      'No, no, no! We are women—we are women,' cried Mrs. Lawrence.

      'How can it concern women?'

      'As well ask how a battle-field concerns them!'

      'Yes, the shots hit us behind you,' said Aminta; and she, too, struck the table.

      He did not prolong their torture. Weyburn received the folio sheet and passed it on. Aminta read. Mrs. Lawrence jumped from her chair and ran to the countess's shoulder; her red lips formed the petitioning word to the earl for the liberty she was bent to take.

      'Peep? if you like,' my lord said, jesting at the blank she would find, and soft to the pretty play of her mouth.

      When the ladies had run to the end of it, he asked them: 'Well; now then?'

      'But it's capital—the dear laddies!' Mrs. Lawrence exclaimed.

      Aminta's eyes met Weyburn's.

      She handed him the sheet of paper; upon the transmission of which empty thing from the Horse Guards my lord commented: 'An orderly!'

      Weyburn scanned it rapidly, for the table had been served.

      The contents were these:

      Weyburn spared Aminta an answering look, that would have been a begging of Browny to remember Matey.

      'It 's genuine,' he said to Mrs. Lawrence, as he attacked his plate with the gusto for the repast previously and benignly observed by her. 'It ought to be the work of some of the younger fellows.'

      'They spell correctly, on the whole.'

      'Excepting,' said my lord, 'an article they don't know much about yet.'

      Weyburn had noticed the word, and he smiled. 'Said to be the happy state! The three signing their names are probably what we called bellman and beemen, collector, and heads of the swarm-enthusiasts. If it is not the work of some of the younger hands, the school has levelled on minors. In any case it shows the school is healthy.'

      'I subscribe,' said Mrs. Lawrence.

      'The little girl aged six shall have something done for her,' said

      Aminta, and turned her eyes on the earl.

      He was familiar with her thrilled voice at a story of bravery. He said—

      'The boys don't say the girl's brother turned tail.'

      'Only that the girl's brother aged eight followed the lead of the little girl aged six,' Mrs. Lawrence remarked. 'Well, I like the schoolboys, too—"we are sorry to say!" But they 're good lads. Boys who can appreciate brave deeds are capable of doing them.'

      'Speak to me about it on Monday,' the earl said to Weyburn.

      He bowed, and replied—

      'I shall have the day to-morrow. I 'll walk it and call on Messrs.' (he glanced at the paper) 'Gowen, Bench, and Parsons. I have a German friend in London anxious to wear his legs down stumpier.'

      'The name of the school?'

      'It is called Cuper's.'

      Aminta, on hearing the name of Cuper a second time, congratulated herself on the happy invention of her pretext to keep Mrs. Pagnell from the table at midday. Her aunt had a memory for names: what might she not have exclaimed! There would have been little in it, but it was as well that the 'boy of the name of Weyburn' at Cuper's should be unmentioned. By an exaggeration peculiar to a disgust in fancy, she could hear her aunt vociferating 'Weyburn!' and then staring at Mr. Weyburn opposite—perhaps not satisfied with staring.

      He withdrew after his usual hearty meal, during which his talk of boys and their monkey tricks, and what we can train them to, had been pleasant generally, especially to Mrs. Lawrence. Aminta was carried back to the minute early years at High Brent. A line or two of a smile touched her cheek.

      'Yes, my dear countess, that is the face I want for Lady de Culme to-day,' said Mrs. Lawrence.' She likes a smiling face. Aunty—aunty has always been good; she has never been prim. I was too much for her, until I reflected that she was very old, and deserved to know the truth before she left us; and so I went to her; and then she said she wished to see the Countess of Ormont, because of her being my dearest friend. I fancy she entertains an 'arriere' idea of proposing her flawless niece Gracey, Marchioness of Fencaster, to present you. She 's quite

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