Ravenshoe

  CHAPTER LXIII.

  IN WHICH GUS CUTS FLORA'S DOLL'S CORNS.

  That afternoon Charles said nothing more, but lay and looked out of thewindow at the rhododendrons just bursting into bloom, at the deer, atthe rabbits, at the pheasants; and beyond, where the park dipped down sosuddenly, at the river which spouted and foamed away as of old; and tothe right, at the good old town of Casterton, and at the blue smoke fromits chimneys, drifting rapidly away before the soft south-westerly wind;and he lay and looked at these and thought.

  And before sundown an arch arose in the west which grew and spread; anarch of pale green sky, which grew till it met the sun, and then the wetgrass in the park shone out all golden, and the topmost cedar boughsbegan to blaze like burnished copper.

  And then he spoke. He said, "William, my dear old friend--loved moredeeply than any words can tell--come here, for I have something to sayto you."

  And good William came and stood beside him. And William looked at him,and saw that his face was animated, and that his eyes were sparkling.And he stood and said not a word, but smiled and waited for him to goon.

  And Charles said, "Old boy, I have been looking through that glassto-day, and I saw Mr. Jackson catch the trout, and I saw Welter, and Isaw Mary; and I want you to go and fetch Mary here."

  And William straightway departed; and as he went up the staircase he metthe butler, and he looked so happy, so radiant, and so thoroughlykind-hearted and merry, that the butler, a solemn man, found himselfsmiling as he drew politely aside to let him pass.

  I hope you like this fellow, William. He was, in reality, only a groom,say you. Well, that is true enough. A fellow without education orbreeding, though highly born. But still, I hope you like him. I wasforgetting myself a little, though. At this time he is master ofRavenshoe, with certainly nine, and probably twelve, thousand a year--amost eminently respectable person. One year's income of his wouldsatisfy a man I know, very well, and yet I am talking of himapologetically. But then we novel writers have an unlimited command ofmoney, if we could only realise it.

  However, this great capitalist went upstairs towards the nursery; andhere I must break off, if you please, and take up the thread of mynarrative in another place (I don't mean the House of Lords).

  In point of fact there had been a shindy (I use the word advisedly, andwill repeat it)--a shindy, in the nursery that evening. The duty of astory-teller is to stick in a moral reflection wherever he can, and soat this place I pitchfork in this caution to young governesses, thatnothing can be more incautious or reprehensible, than to give childrenbooks to keep them quiet without first seeing what these books areabout.

  Mary was very much to blame in this case (you see I tell the truth, andspare nobody). Gus, Flora, and Archy had been out to walk with her, aswe know, and had come home in a very turbulent state of mind. They haddemanded books as the sole condition on which they would be good; andMary, being in a fidget about her meeting with Lord Ascot, over thetrout, and being not quite herself, had promptly supplied Gus with anumber of _Blackwood's Magazine_, and Flora with a "Shakspeare."

  This happened early in the afternoon. Remember this; for if we are notparticular in our chronology, we are naught.

  Gus turned to the advertisements. He read, among other things, atestimonial to a great corn-cutter, from a potentate who keeps a verysmall army, and don't mean any harm:--

  "(TRANSLATION.)

  "Professor Homberg has cut my corns with a dexterity truly marvellous.

  (Signed) "NAPOLEON."

  From a country baronet:--

  "I am satisfied with Professor Homberg.

  (Signed) "PITCHCROFT COCKPOLE, Bart."

  From a bishop in the South Sea Islands:--

  "Professor Homberg has cut my corns in a manner which does equal honour to his head and his heart.

  (Signed) "RANGEHAIETA."

  (His real name is Jones, but that is neither here nor there); and in themean time Flora had been studying a certain part of "King Lear."

  Later in the afternoon, it occurred to Gus that he would like to be acorn-cutter and have testimonials. He proposed to cut nurse's corns, butshe declined, assigning reasons. Failing here, he determined to cutFlora's doll's corns, and, with this view, possessed himself of herperson during Flora's temporary absence.

  He began by snicking the corner of her foot off with nurse's scissors.Then he found that the sawdust dribbled out at the orifice. This wasvery delightful. He shook her, and it dribbled faster. Then he cut theother foot off and shook her again. And she, not having any stitches putin about the knee (as all dolls should), lost, not only the sawdustfrom her legs, but also from her stomach and body, leaving nothing butcollapsed calico and a bust, with an undisturbed countenance of waxabove all.

  At this time Flora had rushed in to the rescue; she felt the doll'sbody, and she saw the heap of sawdust; whereupon she, remembering her"King Lear," turned on him and said scornfully:

  "Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness." At this awful taunt, Gusbutted her in the stomach, and she got hold of him by the hair. Archy,excited for the first time in his life, threw a box of ninepins at them,which exploded. Mary rushed in to separate them, and at the same momentin came William with a radiant face, and he quietly took Mary round thewaist (like his impudence), and he said, "My dear creature, go down toCharles, and leave these Turks to me."

  And she left these Turks to him. And he sat on a chair and administeredjustice; and in a very few minutes, under the influence of that kind,happy, sunny face of his, Flora had kissed Gus, and Archy had cuddled upon his knee, and was sucking his thumb in peace.

  And going down to the hall, he found Lady Ascot hobbling up and down,taking her afternoon's exercise, and she said to him, "Ravenshoe, youbest and kindest of souls, she is there with him now. My dear, we hadbetter not move in this matter any more. I tried to dispossess youbefore I knew your worth and goodness, but I will do nothing now. He isrich, and perhaps it is better, my dear, that Ravenshoe should be inPapist hands--at least, in such hands as yours."

  He said, "My dear madam, I am not Ravenshoe. I feel sure that you areright. We must find Ellen."

  And Mary came out and came toward them; and she said, "Lady Ascot andMr. Ravenshoe, Charles and I are engaged to be married."