circled one stone. He stopped, poked at the base with the toe of his boot, then slid his gaze over to judge the expression on my face.
“Mr. Fredericks,” I said. “I believe you agreed not to touch them in any way?”
He heaved another sigh. Alexander, who was growing bored with the stone circle, tugged at his arm. “Come on, Freddicks,” he said, and Mr. Fredericks allowed himself to be escorted away from the megaliths. I thankfully discarded the hateful hat and followed them.
9
WHILE JOCK BUSIED HIMSELF setting out the picnic nuncheon, we took a stroll around the area. The party broke up into groupings that I had not anticipated. Alexander was unwilling to relinquish the company of his friend Mr. Fredericks, and, as it seemed to me only proper that the gentleman who was responsible for Alexander’s presence should also be responsible for entertaining him, I was content with this pairing.
Prudence, who still cherished ambitions with regard to Mr. Fredericks, requested that he lend her an arm to guide her over the rough ground and, after one blank look, he complied gracefully enough. I must own that I admired her courage. I hoped she would neither find herself steered into a bog hole nor break an ankle falling into a badger’s sett.
The Marquis offered his arm to my mother, and I soon had the happiness of seeing them laughing and talking together quite like old friends. I looked around for Lord Boring, only to discover that Charity had swooped in and carried him off. They were already some distance away, His Lordship looking back over his shoulder and Charity tugging him along, setting quite a smart pace in her urgency to remove him from my vicinity.
In short, I was left alone and desolate. As the group included only three grown-up gentlemen and four ladies, it was inevitable that two ladies would have to share, but I had not anticipated having to make do with no gentleman at all. Rather chagrinned at this development after all my fine plans for the day, I decided to walk behind Mr. Fredericks and Prudence, the better to keep an eye on my brother. Though I knew that my mother would be watching as well, she was distracted by the attentions of the Marquis, and I reasoned that if I could not advance my own cause at present, I could at least allow her to enjoy a conversation with an intelligent, educated adult in peace.
Alexander had been most strongly warned against removing his shoes, dirtying his stockings, wandering off alone, climbing any of the few trees that dotted the landscape, and, with a good deal of emphasis, going anywhere near the flooded mine shaft. So far as the caution against the old tin mine went, I had warned him, Mama had warned him, and Lord Boring had warned him, all within Mr. Fredericks’s hearing. This being the case, I was not surprised to find that Mr. Fredericks and Alexander were making straight for it, ignoring Prudence’s pleas to pause for a moment to admire a large gorse bush in full flower.
I had expected this and forbore to comment, but waited while the two gentlemen, large and small, walked at a safe distance around the mine shaft thrice. Satisfied, they obediently returned to look at the gorse bush.
If you have ever been on the English moors in early June you will be aware that a gorse plant in bloom, while a reasonably attractive object, is hardly a rarity. The moor does not offer a great deal of variety of flowering plants. Heather has a purple blossom; gorse has a yellow. When in bloom, nearly every vista that is not a vast sweep of purple is therefore a vast sweep of yellow, or an admixture of both.
The gorse bush is the taller of the two, and covered with a great many sharp green spikes. If you keep in mind that most of the flowers are, at any given moment, being visited by a variety of stinging insects in search of pollen, it will be clear to you that a gorse bush is an object to be treated with respect. It would not, for instance, be wise to begin reciting the
“Mr. Fredericks,” I said. “I believe you agreed not to touch them in any way?”
He heaved another sigh. Alexander, who was growing bored with the stone circle, tugged at his arm. “Come on, Freddicks,” he said, and Mr. Fredericks allowed himself to be escorted away from the megaliths. I thankfully discarded the hateful hat and followed them.
9
WHILE JOCK BUSIED HIMSELF setting out the picnic nuncheon, we took a stroll around the area. The party broke up into groupings that I had not anticipated. Alexander was unwilling to relinquish the company of his friend Mr. Fredericks, and, as it seemed to me only proper that the gentleman who was responsible for Alexander’s presence should also be responsible for entertaining him, I was content with this pairing.
Prudence, who still cherished ambitions with regard to Mr. Fredericks, requested that he lend her an arm to guide her over the rough ground and, after one blank look, he complied gracefully enough. I must own that I admired her courage. I hoped she would neither find herself steered into a bog hole nor break an ankle falling into a badger’s sett.
The Marquis offered his arm to my mother, and I soon had the happiness of seeing them laughing and talking together quite like old friends. I looked around for Lord Boring, only to discover that Charity had swooped in and carried him off. They were already some distance away, His Lordship looking back over his shoulder and Charity tugging him along, setting quite a smart pace in her urgency to remove him from my vicinity.
In short, I was left alone and desolate. As the group included only three grown-up gentlemen and four ladies, it was inevitable that two ladies would have to share, but I had not anticipated having to make do with no gentleman at all. Rather chagrinned at this development after all my fine plans for the day, I decided to walk behind Mr. Fredericks and Prudence, the better to keep an eye on my brother. Though I knew that my mother would be watching as well, she was distracted by the attentions of the Marquis, and I reasoned that if I could not advance my own cause at present, I could at least allow her to enjoy a conversation with an intelligent, educated adult in peace.
Alexander had been most strongly warned against removing his shoes, dirtying his stockings, wandering off alone, climbing any of the few trees that dotted the landscape, and, with a good deal of emphasis, going anywhere near the flooded mine shaft. So far as the caution against the old tin mine went, I had warned him, Mama had warned him, and Lord Boring had warned him, all within Mr. Fredericks’s hearing. This being the case, I was not surprised to find that Mr. Fredericks and Alexander were making straight for it, ignoring Prudence’s pleas to pause for a moment to admire a large gorse bush in full flower.
I had expected this and forbore to comment, but waited while the two gentlemen, large and small, walked at a safe distance around the mine shaft thrice. Satisfied, they obediently returned to look at the gorse bush.
If you have ever been on the English moors in early June you will be aware that a gorse plant in bloom, while a reasonably attractive object, is hardly a rarity. The moor does not offer a great deal of variety of flowering plants. Heather has a purple blossom; gorse has a yellow. When in bloom, nearly every vista that is not a vast sweep of purple is therefore a vast sweep of yellow, or an admixture of both.
The gorse bush is the taller of the two, and covered with a great many sharp green spikes. If you keep in mind that most of the flowers are, at any given moment, being visited by a variety of stinging insects in search of pollen, it will be clear to you that a gorse bush is an object to be treated with respect. It would not, for instance, be wise to begin reciting the
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