LITMIR.BIZ

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Uncle Roger was taller, and much more robust and broad; his hair still untouched with grey, his face ruddy brown, and his features full of good nature, but rather heavy. In his plaid shooting coat and high gaiters, as he stood by the fire, he looked the model of a country squire; but there was an indescribable family likeness, and something of the same form about the nose and lip, which recalled to Henrietta the face she loved so well in Uncle Geoffrey.

      The drill discussion was not concluded when Mrs. Langford gave the signal for the ladies to leave the breakfast table. Henrietta ran up stairs for her mother’s work, and came down again laughing. “I am sure, Queenie,” said she, “that your papa chose his trade rightly. He may well be called a great counsel. Besides all the opinions asked of him at breakfast, I have just come across a consultation on the stairs between him and Judith about—what was it?—some money in a savings’ bank.”

      “Yes,” said Beatrice, “Judith has saved a sum that is wondrous in these degenerate days of maids in silk gowns, and she is wise enough to give ‘Master Geoffrey’ all the management of it. But if you are surprised now, what will you be by the end of the day? See if his advice is not asked in at least fifty matters.”

      “I’ll count,” said Henrietta: “what have we had already?” and she took out pencil and paper—“Number one, the tea-chest; then the poor man, and the turnpike trust—”

      “Vixen’s puppies and the drill,” suggested her mamma.

      “And Judith’s money,” added Henrietta. “Six already—”

      “To say nothing of all that will come by the post, and we shall not hear of,” said Beatrice; “and look here, what I am going to seal for him, one, two, three—eight letters.”

      “Why! when could he possibly have written them?”

      “Last night after we were gone to bed. It shows how much more grandmamma will let him do than any one else, that she can allow him to sit up with a candle after eleven o’clock. I really believe that there is not another living creature in the world who could do it in this house. There, you may add your own affairs to the list, Henrietta, for he is going to the Pleasance to meet some man of brick and mortar.”

      “O, I wish we could walk there!”

      “I dare say we can. I’ll manage. Aunt Mary, should you not like Henrietta to go and see the Pleasance?”

      “Almost as much as Henrietta would like it herself, Busy Bee,” said Aunt Mary; “but I think she should walk to Sutton Leigh to-day.”

      “Walk to Sutton Leigh!” echoed old Mrs. Langford, entering at the moment; “not you, surely, Mary?”

      “O no, no, grandmamma,” said Beatrice, laughing; “she was only talking of Henrietta’s doing it.”

      “Well, and so do, my dears; it will be a very nice thing, if you go this morning before the frost goes off. Your Aunt Roger will like to see you, and you may take the little pot of black currant jelly that I wanted to send over for poor Tom’s sore mouth.”

      Beatrice looked at Henrietta and made a face of disgust as she asked, “Have they no currant jelly themselves?”

      “O no, they never can keep anything in the garden. I don’t mean that the boys take the fruit; but between tarts and puddings and desserts, poor Elizabeth can never make any preserves.”

      “But,” objected Queen Bee, “if one of the children is ill, do you think Aunt Roger will like to have us this morning? and the post girl could take the jelly.”

      “O nonsense, Bee,” said Mrs. Langford, somewhat angrily; “you don’t like to do it, I see plain enough. It is very hard you can’t be as good-natured to your own little cousin as to one of the children in the village.”

      “Indeed, grandmamma, I did not mean that.”

      “O no, no, grandmamma,” joined in Henrietta, “we shall be very glad to take it. Pray let us.”

      “Yes,” added Beatrice, “if it is really to be of any use, no one can be more willing.”

      “Of any use?” repeated Mrs. Langford. “No! never mind. I’ll send someone.”

      “No, pray do not, dear grandmamma,” eagerly exclaimed Henrietta; “I do beg you will let us take it. It will be making me at home directly to let me be useful.”

      Grandmamma was pacified. “When will you set out?” she asked; “you had better not lose this bright morning.”

      “We will go directly,” said Queen Bee; “we will go by the west turning, so that Henrietta may see the Pleasance.”

      “My dear! the west turning will be a swamp, and I won’t have you getting wet in your feet and catching cold.”

      “O, we have clogs; and besides, the road does not get so dirty since it has been mended. I asked Johnny this morning.”

      “As if he knew, or cared anything about it!—and you will be late for luncheon. Besides, grandpapa will drive your aunt there the first day she feels equal to it, and Henrietta may see it then. But you will always have your own way.”

      Henrietta had seldom been more uncomfortable than during this altercation; and but for reluctance to appear more obliging than her cousin, she would have begged to give up the scheme. Her mother would have interfered in another moment, but the entrance of Uncle Geoffrey gave a sudden turn to affairs.

      “Who likes to go to the Pleasance?” said he, as he entered. “All whose curiosity lies that way may prepare their seven-leagued boots.”

      “Here are the girls dying to go,” said Mrs. Langford, as well pleased as if she had not been objecting the minute before.

      “Very well. We go by Sutton Leigh: so make haste, maidens.” Then, turning to his mother, “Didn’t I hear you say you had something to send to Elizabeth, ma’am?”

      “Only some currant jelly for little Tom; but if—”

      “O grandmamma, that is my charge; pray don’t cheat me,” exclaimed Henrietta. “If you will lend me a basket, it will travel much better with me than in Uncle Geoffrey’s pocket.”

      “Ay, that will be the proper division of labour,” said Uncle Geoffrey, looking well pleased with his niece; “but I thought you were off to get ready.”

      “Don’t keep your uncle waiting, my dear,” added her mamma; and Henrietta departed, Beatrice following her to her room, and there exclaiming, “If there is a thing I can’t endure, it is going to Sutton Leigh when one of the children is poorly! It is always bad enough—”

      “Bad enough! O, Busy Bee!” cried Henrietta, quite unprepared to hear of any flaw in her paradise.

      “You will soon see what I mean. The host of boys in the way; the wooden bricks and black horses spotted with white wafers that you break your shins over, the marbles that roll away under your feet, the whips that crack in your ears, the universal air of nursery that pervades the house. It is worse in the morning, too; for one is always whining over sum, es, est, and another over his spelling. O, if I had eleven brothers in a small house, I should soon turn misanthrope. But you are laughing instead of getting ready.”

      “So are you.”

      “My things will be on in a quarter of the time you take. I’ll tell you what, Henrietta, the Queen Bee allows no drones, and I shall teach you to ‘improve each shining hour;’ for nothing will get you into such dire disgrace here as to be always behind time. Besides, it is a great shame to waste papa’s time. Now, here is your shawl ready folded, and now I will trust you to put on your boots and bonnet by yourself.”

      In five minutes the Queen Bee flew back again, and found Henrietta still measuring the length of her bonnet strings before the glass. She hunted her down stairs at last, and found the two uncles and grandpapa at the door, playing with the various dogs, small and great, that usually waited there. Fred and the other boys had gone out together some time since, and the party now set forth, the three gentlemen walking together first. Henrietta turned as soon as she had gone a sufficient

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