Here stood
Aunt Bazalgette, her head turned haughtily, her cheeks scarlet. There
stood Mr. Fountain on the other side of the rustic seat, red as fire,
too, but wearing a hang-dog look, and behind him young Arthur, pale,
with two eyes like saucers, gazing awestruck at the first row he had
ever seen between a full-grown lady and gentleman.
Our narrative must take a step to the rear, as an excellent writer,
Private ----* phrases it, otherwise you might be misled to suppose
that Uncle Fountain was quarreling with Mrs. B. for having set her
foot in sacred Font Abbey.
*"I had an escape myself. As I opened the door of a house, a black
fellow was behind waiting for me, and made a chop. I took a step to
the rear, fired through the door, and cooked his
goose."--_Times._
No, the pudding was richer than that. Mr. Fountain had young Arthur in
charge, and, not being an ill-natured old gentleman, he pitied the
boy, and did all he could to make him feel he was coming among
friends. He sent the carriage on, and showed Arthur the grounds, and
covertly praised the place and all about it, Lucy included, for was
not she an appendage of his abbey. "You will see my niece--a charming
young lady, who will be kind to you, and you must make friends with
her. She is very accomplished--paints. She plays like an angel, too.
Ah! there she is. She has got the gown on I gave her--a compliment to
me--a very pretty attention, Arthur, the day of my return. What is she
doing?"
Arthur, with his young eyes, settled this question.
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