You
never saw fish out of the water look so fresh; their olive-green backs
and vermillion bellies and dark-red fins were as natural as life. Come
Harry, we will go and fetch over a few dozen. If you carry your colonel
some, he will take the gift as an excuse for the day. Eh? What?"
"I think Harry had better not go with you, father."
"Eh? What is the matter with you, Charlotte? You are as nattert and
cross as never was. Where is your mother? I like my morning cup filled
with a smile. It helps the day through."
"Mother isn't feeling well. She had a bad dream about Harry and you, and
she is making herself sick over it. She is all in a tremble. I didn't
think mother was so foolish."
"Dreams are from somewhere beyond us, Charlotte. There's them that visit
us a-dreaming. I am not so wise as to be foolish. I believe in some
things that are outside of my short wits. Maybe we had better not go to
Windermere. We might be tempted into a boat, and dry land is a middling
bit safer. Eh? What?"
Charlotte felt as if she could endure her father's unsuspicious
happiness no longer. It was like watching a little child smiling and
prattling on the road to its mother's funeral. She put Mrs. Sandal's
breakfast on a small tray, and with this in her hand went up-stairs,
leaving Harry and the squire still at the table.
"Charlotte is a bit hurrysome this morning," he said; and Harry making
no answer, he seemed suddenly to be struck with his attitude.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181