Aunts -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Love stories; Stepmothers -- Fiction
He kissed me two or three times after I said this, and so far recovered
his usual self that he allowed me to sit on his knee and play with his
watch chain. I was greatly taken with a little charm he wore, and when I
said I liked it he told me that it had once belonged to a great idol in
one of the most marvellous temples in the historic town of Delhi. He
said it was supposed to be a charm and to bring luck, and then he
detached it from his chain and slipped it on to a narrow gold chain
which I wore round my neck. He told me to keep it always, for it was
certain to bring luck. I said:
"What's luck?"
He answered: "Fair gales and a prosperous sail."
I nodded my head satisfactorily at that, and said:
"Then I will wear it, and you and me, Daddy"--I went wrong again with my
grammar--"will have fair gales and a prosperous sail when we are
returning to India."
He thrust his head out of the carriage window when I said this, and when
he put it back again I noticed that for some reason his face was as red
as ever.
Aunt Penelope's name was Penelope Despard, and she lived in a pretty
little place outside a pretty little town about fifty miles away from
Southampton. We got out at the station, which was called Cherton, and
there a cab awaited us, which had evidently been sent by order, and some
luggage was put on the roof. I was too excited by then to make any
comment with regard to the luggage, although I noticed it afterwards and
observed that it was all marked "H. G.," and there was nothing marked
"G. G.," for father's name was Gordon Grayson. I said to father, as we
got into the cab:
"I do wonder when Anastasia's train will arrive." And he said:
"So do I. I must make inquiries presently." But although I expected him
to make these inquiries at once he did not do so, and the cab started
off in the direction of Miss Despard's cottage.
Miss Penelope Despard lived in a little house with a little garden
attached. The little house went by the name of Hill View, and the garden
and tiny lawn were very pretty and very neatly kept. But I was
accustomed to big things--that is, except on board ship, when, of
course, I had the sea to look at, which seemed to go on for ever and
ever. So I was not excited about Aunt Penelope's garden. Father's face
continued to be very red. He held my hand and took me up the neatly-kept
gravel walk, and pushed a very brightly-polished brass button, which was
instantly answered by a neat-looking boy, with a perfectly round face,
in buttons.
"Is Miss Despard in?" asked father. And then a lady in spectacles came
out of a room at one side of a narrow hall, and father said:
"Hallo, Penelope! It is years since we met, and, Penelope, this is
Heather. Heather, my darling, here is your Aunt Penelope."
"I hope you are a good child and do what you are told always," said Aunt
Penelope.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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