[Illustration: 9221]
Nothing could have exceeded the air of importance with which Albert was
striding along the streets of Windsor, and notwithstanding the shortness
of his legs, his _valet de chambre_, in the shape of a newly acquired
French nurse, had difficulty in keeping up with him. The fact was,
Albert was intrusted with a most important piece of information--the
bearer of a message that had cleared his own mental horizon from so much
as the vestige of a cloud, and which he felt sure would bring equal joy
to the others for whom it was intended. The destination toward which he
steered, without deviation to right or left, and with great regard
for economy of time and space at corners and crossings, was the Little
Castle, and he marched up the path from terrace to terrace, and rang the
bell with all the complacency of a drum-major.
It was expected, of course, that faithful old Margaret, who was master
in chief of affairs in the Little Castle, would, as usual, in the
absence of the family, answer the bell, and the message intended for
her was half way over Albert's lips before he took in the fact that the
individual who had opened the door bore about as close resemblance to
Margaret as the tower of the Little Castle to its door-mat.
“Why--why, who are you?” asked Albert as soon as he could check the
impassioned utterance of his message, and instantly demanded in the next
breath, “and--and where is Margaret?”
“Here I am, dear,” said Margaret, coming toward him as rapidly as an
extra touch of rheumatism would permit, “and I suppose you wonder who
this is who has let you in?”
“Nes,” said Albert, whose anxiety as to who this intruder might be was
somewhat allayed by Margaret's appearance on the scene.
“Well, this is Mr. Everett Selden, Harold's uncle, who has come down
from London to make us a little visit,” Margaret explained.
“Oh, dat's all right den!” favoring Mr. Selden with a benignant smile;
“and--and now, Margaret. I came round to tell you dat dey are coming
home on Saturday. We've had a letter from Dorothy dis morning, and dey
sent me down to tell you.” (Margaret fortunately was considerate enough
not to take the wind out of the little fellow's sails by informing him
that they had had letters of their own that morning.) “And, Margaret,
dey will get here in time for luncheon, and I would have a very good
luncheon, Margaret, and everything all b'ight and shiny.”
“Just as you say, Master Albert,” making a little curtsey to this
self-appointed master, and with difficulty restricting her emotions to a
smile.
Meanwhile, Mr. Selden stood on one side immensely entertained, for he
had previously had no idea that executive ability ever made a showing at
quite such an early age.
“And now,” said Albert, free to turn his attention to less important
matters, “did you open the door for me because you saw a little boy
coming up the terrace?”
“Yes, that was the way of it,” Mr. Selden replied.
“But you did not know what little boy I was?”
“Oh, yes, I did; Marie-Celeste told me about you one day when I had a
good talk with her in St. George's.”
“Elaine,” said Albert, turning abruptly to the French nurse, “I
would like to talk to Harold's uncle, and I would like to stay to
luncheon--I often stay to luncheon, don't I, Margaret?” Margaret's
answer was that he often did, and Mr. Selden's assurance that nothing
would give him greater pleasure at once settled the matter, and Elaine
was compelled to return without her charge, but entrusted with the
message to Albert's mamma that Mr. Selden would himself bring him home
early in the afternoon.
“I remember that Marie-Celeste told me,” said Mr. Selden, placing a
comfortable chair for Albert opposite his own, near the open window,
“that you were very fond of a good talk now and then; and I'm very glad
of that, because there isn't anything else that I could do to amuse
you.”
“Why isn't there?” said Albert, noting Mr. Selden's dressing-gown, and
impressed with his semi-invalid air; “aren't you strong enough to do
anything but talk?”
“No, I'm not so badly off as that yet, Albert; but you see I've lived
alone so long; that I haven't much of an idea how to amuse little boys.”
“Why did you tome down here when ev'rybody was away?” for Albert
felt that the case needed to be still further investigated; “were you
inwited?”
“Oh, yes, indeed I was invited! Harold's brother Ted invited me--urged
me, I may say, to come whenever I chose, and to stay as long as I
liked.”
“How long do you sink you will like to stay?”
“I think I would like to stay always.”
“Always till you die?”
“Yes, I think I should--that is, if you don't mind, Albert;” for
Albert's sense of proprietorship in the Little Castle was very evident.
“Oh, no, I'll not mind--perhaps we'll grow to be friends, and often have
long talks. Marie-Celeste said you had long talks on the steamer--that
was how she came to know you so well.”
“Yes, we did have beautiful talks on the steamer, but the very best one
of all was in St. George's Chapel, a month or so ago.”
“Nes, I know,” as though there was little of interest to Marie-Celeste
that was not sooner or later confided to him. “Did she tell you dat
time, Mr. Selden, 'bout our Knight-of-de-Garter day?”
“Oh, yes, indeed.”
“And 'bout dis?” groping in the side-pocket of his sacque, and producing
a little circle of blue ribbon.
“I can't quite make out what it is, Albert,” said Mr. Selden, peering
anxiously at the rather indistinguishable little object.
“Well, dat's what it is and drawing up his kilt and the trouser leg
underneath, Albert slipped the garter over his foot and up to its right
place, just above the knee. This brought the gold lettering partly into
view, and enabled Mr. Selden to grasp the situation.
“Oh, I see,” he said; “you made believe you were a little Knight of the
Garter yourself.”
“Nes; just for a bit of fun, I made believe I was a little knight all
dat day; but of course I didn't tell anybody, only Dorothy, who made it
for me. But do you know,” very confidentially, “dat I felled asleep in
de church beside Timothy, so dat de garter showed, and den de children
teased me awfully 'bout it, and Marie-Celeste calls me her little knight
now almost always. But you won't ever tell dat I told you why she calls
me dat, will you?”
“No, I promise, Albert;” and Margaret coming in just then to announce
luncheon, the blue garter was surreptitiously removed and left for the
time being on the library table, and was not thought of again by its
rightful owner. Mr. Selden, finding it there later in the afternoon,
slipped it into his pocket, with an idea of the use he might some time
make of it.
For the next three days, to Mr. Selden's delight and amusement, Albert
was a constant visitor at the Little Castle, and when Saturday came
he put in an appearance at a prematurely early hour, for fear, by any
chance, the driving party should reach home before the time appointed;
and as that was exactly what they did do, he congratulated himself very
highly for his extraordinary forethought. Not but what he had full three
hours to spare, only the Allyns, who were invited to luncheon at the
Castle, failing to reach there before the arrival of the brake, he felt
that nothing but his own timely precaution had spared him a similar
disappointment.
[Illustration:0225]
“Dat sounds like dem,” said Albert for about the fiftieth time to Mr.
Selden.
“Hardly, I think;” but humoring Albert to the extent of stepping out on
to the door-step; “it is a whole hour ahead of time yet.”
Hut Albert was right, and a moment later the four-in-hand wheeled up at
the gate, and the glorious driving trip was over.
“Who can that possibly be with Albert?” queried Harold, naturally
mystified at the appearance of a gentleman, in the easy costume of house
coat and slippers, standing complacently in the doorway of the Little
Castle.
“It's Uncle Everett, that's who it is;” and clambering down the side
of the coach, Ted was up the path, and had him cordially by the hand in
less than a minute.
“Well, this beats all,” said Harold to himself; “what is going to happen
next, I wonder?” But he had the graciousness to defer his own
greeting to Uncle Everett until he assisted Aunt Lou and Dorothy and
Marie-Celeste to dismount, by aid of the brake's steps, and which much
practice, by the way, enabled them to accomplish very skilfully.
Albert, you may be sure, was standing as close as possible to the foot
of the steps, and tumbled curls and rumpled collar soon bore witness to
an exceedingly hearty exchange of greetings. But the beauty of it was,
that everybody seemed to have every whit as glad a welcome for Uncle
Everett as Ted himself; and for Mr. and Mrs. Harris the surprise was in
store of finding that Marie-Celeste's steamer friend and Uncle Everett
were one and the same person; but surprises being the order of the
day just then, everybody was coming to take them quite as a matter of
course. Mr. Selden soon sought out an opportunity to tell why he had
been so ungracious as not to reveal his identity on the steamer, though
he felt naturally that his explanation did not reflect very much to his
credit, as was indeed the truth; but Mr. and Mrs. Harris were not the
people to bear a grudge against anybody if it could by any reasonable
possibility be dispensed with, and of course other explanations were
called for. Uncle Everett's presence had to be explained to Harold, and
Ted told him all about their week together in London, but not yet about
the borrowed money. That confession, together with all the rest, would
be made a little later on, when Harold and he should have gotten a
little nearer still to each other.
Well, it was a merry luncheon they had in the Little Castle, but after
luncheon the situation grew rather serious and pathetic. They had had
such a good time together for four happy weeks, it seemed hard each to
have to go his own way and realize that all the good times were over;
and, happily, even Mr. Farwell felt very sorry, too, notwithstanding he
had been obliged to concede rather more than was altogether agreeable
after Ted made his advent among them.