Alice Lorraine: A Tale of the South Downs

								

the first place, did you or did you not, refuse to have Hilary home for
your birthday, much as you knew that I wanted him? You confess that you
did. And your only reason was something you said about Trinity term,
sadly incomprehensible. In the next place, when I wanted you to have a
little change to-day, Uncle Struan for dinner, and Sir Remnant, and one
or two others----”
“My dear, how could I eat all these? Think of your Uncle Struan’s size.”
“Papa, you are only trying now to provoke me, because you cannot
answer. You know what I mean as well as I do, and perhaps a little
better. What I mean is, one or two of the very oldest friends and
relations to do what was nice, and help you to get on with your
birthday; but you said, with unusual ferocity, ‘Darling, I will have
none but you!’”
“Upon my word, I believe I did! How wonderfully women--at least I mean
how children--astonish one, by the way they touch the very tone of
utterance, after one has forgotten it.”
“I don’t know what you mean, papa. And your reflection seems to be
meant for yourself, as everything seems to be for at least a week, or I
might say----”
“Come, Lallie, come now, have some moderation.”
“Well, then, papa, for at least a fortnight. I will let you off with
that, though I know it is much too little. And when you have owned
to that, papa, what good reason can you give for behaving so to
me--me--me, as good a child as ever there was?”
“Can ‘me, me, me,’ after living through such a fortnight of
mortification--the real length of the period being less than four
hours, I believe--can she listen to a little story without any
excitement?”
“Oh, papa, a story, a story! That will make up for everything. What a
lovely pleasure! There is nothing I love half so much as listening to
old stories. I seem to be living my old age over, before I come to any
age. Papa, I will forgive you everything, if you tell me a story.”
“Alice, you are a little too bad. I know what a very good girl you are;
but still you ought to try to think. When you were only two years old,
you looked as if you were always thinking.”
“So I am now, papa; always thinking--how to please you, and do my
best.”
Sir Roland was beaten by this, because he knew the perfect truth of it.
Alice already thought too much about everything she could think of.
Her father knew how bad it is when the bright young time is clouded
over with unreasonable cares; and often he had sore misgivings, lest
he might be keeping his pet child too much alone. But she only laughed
whenever he offered to find her new companions, and said that her
cousins at the rectory were enough for her.
“If you please, papa,” she now broke in upon his thinking, “how long
will it be before you begin to tell me this beautiful story?”
“My own darling, I forgot; I was thinking of you, and not of any
trumpery stories. But this is the very day of all days to sift our