Page:Comin' Thro' the Rye (1898).djvu/205

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SUMMER.
197

brother, who has earned his nickname by the extraordinary power and volume of his bellow (when papa is out of the way), downstairs very unwillingly.

The gentlemen are all standing together in the porch, and I say, "How do you do?" to the father, and lay my fingers in the warm grasp of the son; and after that little formula we all stroll forth together, the two old souls in front, and we young ones behind.

"Do you know," I say, lowering my voice cautiously, for in our family we all firmly believe that papa has not only eyes but ears in the back of his head, "that perhaps something most delightful is going to happen to me? That there is a chance of my going away?"

"Going away," he repeats blankly, and a pale dashed look comes over his face; "do you mean it, Nell!"

"Why should I not?" I ask in astonishment, tipping my sunbonnet a little farther forward; "is there anything so very astonishing in that, pray?"

"It would not be in some people, but it is in you; I thought you never went away."

"That is just why I am so anxious to begin," I say, briskly. 'Do you think he will let me go? do you think he will?"

"I don't know," says George, switching at the grass with his stick; "do you want to go so very much?"

"I think I should break my heart if I did not!" I say with conviction. "You see I have never been anywhere really; and think of what it would be to go to, perhaps, a ball (Do you think they will dance at Luttrell?) and have a real ball dress, and a real———"

"Lover!" puts in George, with a pale smile; for you are as sure to have the one as the other!"

"You silly boy!" I say, patting his coat sleeve, "have you not got over that ridiculous notion yet? I wish you were coming too; yes I do, with all my heart!"