His head rested on his hand, and while
Lady Greville who was seated on an opposite couch, was apparently
engrossed by the embroidery-frame over which she leant, his attention
was equally occupied by his son, who stood at her knee, interrupting
her progress by twining his little hands in the slender ringlets
which profusely overhung her work, and by questions which betrayed
the unsuspicious sportiveness of his age.
"Mother," said the boy, "are we to remain all winter in this ruinous
den? Do you know Margaret says, that some of these northern sea
winds will shake it down over our heads one stormy night; and that
she would as soon lie under the ruins, as be buried alive in its
walls. Now I must own I would rather return to Silsea, and visit my
hawks, and Caesar, and--"
"Hush! sir, you prate something too wildly; nor do I wish to hear you
repeat Margaret's idle observations."
"But mother, I know you long yourself to walk once again in your own
dear sunshiny orangery?"
"My Hugh" said Lady Greville without attending to his question, "has
Margaret shewn you the descent to the walk below the cliffs, and have
you brought me the shells you promised to gather?"
"How? with the spring tide beating the foot of the rocks, and the sea
raging so furiously that the very gulls dared not take their
delicious perch upon the waves. Tomorrow perhaps--"
"What now, my Hugh, afraid to venture? When I walked on the sands at
noon, there was a bowshot spare.
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