“Ah, I am sorry to hear that I but I hope you don’t intend to disobey any more.”
“No, indeed, grandpa.”
“Are you considered good enough to go with us to-day?”
“Yes, grandpa, mamma says I was punished yesterday, and I don’t be punished twice for the same thing.”
“Mamma is quite right,” he said, “and grandpa is very glad she allows you to go.”
“I don’t think I deserve it, grandpa, but she’s such a dear, kind mamma.”
“So she is, pet, and I hope you will always be a dear good daughter to her,” said grandpa, holding the little face close to his.
Meta was not allowed to come down to breakfast. Vi missed her from the table, and at prayers, and going up to Mrs. Carrington, asked, “Is Meta sick, Aunt Sophie?”
“No, dear, but she has been too naughty to be with us. I have said she must stay in her own room all day.”
“And not go to the picnic? Oh please let her go, auntie!”
The other children joined their entreaties to Vi’s, but without avail; and with streaming eyes Meta, at her window, saw the embarkation, and watched the boats glide away till lost to view in the distance.
“Too bad!” she sobbed, “it’s too, too bad that I must stay here and learn long hard lessons while all the rest are having such a good time!”
Then she thought remorsefully of her mother’s sad look, as she bade her good-bye and said how sorry she was to be obliged to leave her behind, and as some atonement set to work diligently at her tasks.
The weather was very fine, the sun shone, the birds filled the air with melody, and a delicious breeze danced in the tree-tops, rippled the water, and played with the brown and golden ringlets of little Elsie and Vi, and the flaxen curls of Daisy Carrington.
The combined influences of the clear, pure air, the pleasant motion, as the rowers bent to their oars, and the lovely scenery meeting the eye at every turn, were not to be resisted; and all, old and young, were soon in gayest spirits. They sang songs, cracked jokes, told anecdotes, and were altogether a very merry company.
After a delightful row of two hours or more the rounding of a point brought suddenly into view the place of their destination.
The boats were made fast and the party stepped ashore, followed by the men servants bearing rugs and wraps and several large well-filled hampers of provisions.
With joyous shouts the children ran hither and thither; the boys tumbled on the grass, the girls gathered great bouquets of the beautiful flowers, twisted them in their curls, and wore garlands for their hats.
“Walk up to de house, ladies an’ gentlemen; Massa an’ Missus not at home now, but be berry glad to see you when dey gets back,” said a pleasant voice close at hand.
All but Mr. Lilburn looked about for the speaker, wondered at seeing no one, then laughed at themselves for being so often and so easily deceived.