on one of the wide leathern couches. “He meant to do his duty; and
please—will you let me buy the puppy?”
Of course Sir Henry would not allow the little Earl to wander any
farther afield, and of course a horseman was sent over in hot haste to
apprise his people, misled by the boat-lad, who, frightened at his own
share in the little gentleman’s escape, had sworn till he was hoarse
that he had seen Lord Avillion take a boat for Rye.
So Bertie’s liberty was nipped in the bud, and very sorrowfully and
wistfully he strayed out on to the rose-terrace of Sir Henry’s house,
awaiting the coming of his friends. The puppy had been fetched, and was
tumbling and waddling solemnly beside him; yet he was very sad at heart.
“What are you thinking of, my child?” said Sir Henry, who was a gentle
and learned man.
Bertie’s mouth quivered.
“I see,” he said, hesitatingly,—“I see _I_ am nothing. It is the title
they give me, and the money I have got, that make the people so good to
me. When I am only _me_, you see how it is.”
And the tears rolled down his face, which he had heard called “wizen”
and “puny” and likened to tallow.
“My dear little fellow,” said his grown-up companion, tenderly, “there
comes a day when even kings are stripped of all their pomp, and lie
naked and stark; it is then that which they have done, not that which
they have been, that will find them grace and let them rise again.”
“But I am nothing!” said Bertie, piteously. “You see, when the people
do not know who I am, they think me nothing at all.”
“I don’t fancy Peggy and Dan will think so when we tell them
everything,” said the host. “We are all of us nothing in ourselves, my
child; only, here and there we pluck a bit of lavender,—that is, we do
some good thing or say some kind word,—and then we get a sweet savor
from it. You will gather a great deal of lavender in your life, or I am
mistaken.”
“I will try,” said Bertie, who understood.
So, off the downs that day, and in the pleasant hawthorn woods of the
friendly little Isle, he plucked two heads of lavender,—humility and
sympathy. Believe me, they are worth as much as was the moly of Ulysses.
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 22, “thei” changed to “their” (even in their dulness)
Page 51, “draw” changed to “drew” (drew out with his teeth)
Page 70, “gir” changed to “girl” (girl whom he afterwards)
Page 119, “drins” changed to “drink” (drink your reward at)
Page 133, “al” changed to “all” (were all bad trades)
Page 136, “ooks” changed to “looks” (and looks; there is)
Page 139, “beautifu” changed to “beautiful” (beautiful in their own)
Page 140, “mac-roni” over two lines changed to “macaroni” (long coils
of macaroni)
Page 155, “grea” changed to “great” (great eyes glared and)
Page 157, “on” changed to “one” (that every one in the long)
Page 204, “the” changed to “she” (she was very ill indeed)
Page 229, “come” changed to “comes” (I never comes)