Molly received her with her favourite exclamation:  “Lawk, miss, and who do you think have been here?”

“Jumbo told me, Molly.”

“Ain’t he a perfect pictur of a man?  And such a gentleman!  He gave me a whole goolden guinea for my good care of his little sisters, and says he:  ’Their father shall hear of them, and what little ladies they be.’”

“I am glad they behaved themselves prettily.”

“Yes, that they did, ma’am.  It was good luck that they had not been grubbing in their gardens as you lets ’em do, ma’am, but they was all as clean as a whistle, a picking up horse-chestnuts under the big tree at the corner of the bowling green, when out on the steps we sees him, looking more like an angel than a man, in his red coat, and the goold things on his shoulders, and out he comes!  Miss Amy, she was afeard at first:  ‘Be the soldiers a coming?’ says she, and runs to me; but Miss Letty, she holds out her arms, and says “It’s my papa,’ and Miss Fay, she stood looking without a word.  Then when his Honour was in among them:  “My little sisters, my dear little sisters,’ says he, ‘don’t you know me?’ and down he goes on one knee in the grass, never heeding his beautiful white small-clothes, if you’ll believe me, miss, and holds out his arms, and gets Miss Fay into one arm, and Miss Letty into t’other, and then Miss Amy runs up, and he kisses them all.  Then miss Letty says again ‘Are you my papa from foreign parts?’ and he laughs and says:  ’No, little one, I’m your brother.  Did you never hear of your brother Amyas?’ and Miss Fay stood off a little and clapped her little hands, and says:  ’O brother Amyas, how beautiful you are!’”

Aurelia could not help longing to know whether she had been mentioned, but she did not like to inquire, and she was obliged to rest satisfied with the assurance that her little girls had comported themselves like jewels, like lambs, like darling lumps of sugar, or whatever metaphors were suggested by the imagination of Molly, who had, apparently, usurped the entire credit of their good manners.  It was impossible to help feeling a little aggrieved, or, maugre [in spite of—­D.L.] all inconvenient properties to avoid wishing to have been under the horse-chestnut tree, even though she might have shown herself just such a bashful little speechless fool as she had been when Sir Amyas had danced with her at Carminster.

She was destined to hear a good deal more of the visitor the next day.  The children met her with the cry of “Cousin Aura, our brother”—­“our big beautiful brother—­Brother Amyas.”—­They were with difficulty calmed into saying their prayers, and Amoret startled the little congregation by adding to “bless by father, my mother, my brothers and sisters,” “and pray bless big brother Amyas best of all, for I love him very much indeed!”