Thereby Hangs a Tale. Volume One

“Yes, Sir Hampton.”

The footman hurried out, and Sir Hampton took up yesterday’s Times, which arrived so late on the day of issue that it was not perused by the good knight till breakfast-hour the next morning, his seat, Tolcarne, being three hundred and twenty miles from town, and some distance off the West Cornwall Railway.

Sir Hampton – tell it not in the far West – had made his money by tea; had been made alderman by his fellow-citizens, and made a knight by his sovereign, upon the occasion of a visit to the City, when the turtle provided was extra good, and pleased the royal palate.

While waiting the coming of her ladyship, Sir Hampton, a staunch Conservative, skimmed the cream of a tremendously Liberal leader, grew redder in the face, punched the paper in its Liberal wind to double it up, and then went on with it, shaking his head fiercely, as his sister smoothed her mittens and watched him furtively, till the door opened with a snatch, and a little round, plump body, very badly dressed, and, so to speak, walking beneath a ribbon and lace structure, which she bore upon her head as if it were something to sell, bobbed into the room.

Description of people is absolutely necessary on the first introduction, so a few words must be said about Lady Frances Rea. She was what vulgar people would have termed “crumby;” but, literally, she was a plump little body of forty, who, born a baby, seemed to have remained unaltered save as to size. She was pink, and fair, and creamy, and soft, and had dimples in every place where a dimple was possible; her eyes were bright, teeth good, her hair a nice brown, and in short she seemed as if she had always lived on milk, and was brimming with the milk of human kindness still.

“Ten minutes past nine, Fanny,” said Sir Hampton, pompously, after a struggle with a watch that did not want to be consulted.

“Never mind, dear,” said her ladyship, going at him like a soft ball, and giving him a loud kiss. “Matty, where’s my keys?”

“In your basket, dear,” said Miss Matilda, pecking her sister-in-law softly on the forehead.

“So they are, dear,” said her ladyship, rattling open the tea-caddy, and shovelling the tea into the silver pot.

“Er-rum, er-rum!” coughed Sir Hampton, clearing his throat.

His sister fell into an attitude of attention, with one thin finger pressed into her yellow cheek.

“Er-rum,” said Sir Hampton. “Punctuality, Lady Rea, is a necessity in an establishment like ours, and – ”

“Now don’t be so particular, Hampy,” said her ladyship, watching the boiling water run into the teapot. “It’s like having crumbs in bed with you. Ring the bell, Matty.”

“But, my dear,” began Sir Hampton, pompously, “with people in our position – ”

The door opened and Edward appeared.

“Tell cook to poach the eggs and grill the cold turkey, Edward.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And where are the young – oh, dear me! bring a cloth; there’s that stupid teapot running over again.”

“Turn off the water, dear,” said Miss Matilda, with the suffering look of one who had been longing to make the tea herself.

“Oh yes, of course!” said her ladyship. “Quick, Edward, bring a cloth and sop up this mess.”

“Yes, m’ lady.”

Sir Hampton rustled his paper very loudly, rolled his head in his cravat till it crackled again, and looked cross. Then he strode to the table, took his seat, and began methodically to open the letter-bag and sort the letters; and then, in the midst of the sopping process and the exclamations of her ladyship, a door was heard to open, steps pattered over the hall floor, there was a babble of pleasant voices, a scuffling as of hats and baskets being thrown on to a table, and then the breakfast-room door opened, and two young girls hurried into the room.

“Nearly twenty minutes past nine, my dears,” said Sir Hampton, consulting his watch.

“Ah! so late, papa?” said one, hurrying up to kiss Lady Rea, and receive a hearty hug in return.

“Oh, never mind,” said the other, following her sister’s suit, and vigorously returning the maternal hug. “We’ve had such a jolly walk. Oh, ma, how well you look this morning!”

“Do I, my love? There, Edward – that will do. Now, the poached eggs and the turkey, quick!”

“Yes, m’ lady,” said Edward.

And he disappeared, as Sir Hampton was forgetting to be stiff for a few minutes, as he returned the salute of his eldest girl, Valentina.

“I’m sorry we’re late, papa; but we went farther than we meant.”

“But you know, Tiny,” said Sir Hampton, “I like punctuality.”

And he glanced with pride at the graceful undulating form, in its pretty morning dress; and then gazed in the soft grey eyes, looking lovingly out of a sweet oval face, framed in rich brown hair.

“Oh, bother punctuality, daddy!” said the younger girl, a merry, mischievous-looking blonde, with freckled face, bright eyes, and a charming petite form that was most attractive. “Don’t be cross,” she cried, getting behind his chair, throwing her arms round his neck, and laying a soft downy cheek upon his bald head. “Don’t be cross; we’ve had such a jolly walk, and got a basketful of ferns. There! that’ll make you good tempered.”

And she leaned over, dragging his head back, and kissed him half a dozen times on the forehead.

“Fin! Finetta!” exclaimed Sir Hampton. “Now, suppose one of the servants saw you!”

“Oh, they wouldn’t mind, daddy,” laughed the girl. “Oh, I say, how your head shines this morning!”

And bubbling over, as it were, with fun, she breathed sharply twice on her astonished parent’s crown, gave her hand a circular movement over it a few times, and, before he could recover from his surprise, she finished it off with a polish from her pocket-handkerchief, and then stepped back, looking mischievously at the irate knight, as he forced his chair back from the table and stared at her.

“Is the girl mad?” he exclaimed. “Finetta, you make me exceedingly angry.”

“Not with me, daddy,” said the girl placing herself on his knee. “Kiss me, and say good morning, sir.”

The head of the family hesitated for a moment, and then could not resist the upturned face, which he kissed and then pushed the girl away.

“Now go to your place; and I insist Fin, upon your dropping – ”

Miss Matilda started.

“I mean leaving off – using that absurdly childish appellation. I desire you always to address me as papa.”

“All right, daddy,” said the girl, laughing – “as soon as I can teach myself.”

Sir Hampton snatched himself back into his place, and began to open letters; while Finetta went and kissed her aunt.

“Well, aunty, how’s Pip this morning?”

“Pepine is very unwell, my dear,” said Miss Matilda, coldly.

“You stuff him too much, aunty, and don’t give him exercise enough.”

“My dear you should not deliver opinions upon what you do not understand. Your papa’s cup.”

“Don’t understand, aunty!” said the girl, passing the cup; “why, I know all about dogs and horses. You give Pip over to me for a week; I’ll soon put the little wretch right.”

Lady Rea saw the horror upon her sister-in-law’s countenance, and catching her daughter’s eye, shook her head at her, as she went on dispensing the tea.