Bert Lloyd's Boyhood: A Story from Nova Scotia
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CHAPTER VI.
AT GRANDFATHER'S.
Easily distinguished in the crowd gathered to welcome the coach, whosearrival was always the event of the evening, was Bert's grandfather,Squire Stewart, a typical old Scotchman, from every point of view. Asthe passengers got out, he stood watching them in silent dignity, untilMrs. Lloyd, catching sight of him, ran impulsively up, and taking hisface between her two hands, gave him a warm kiss on each cheek, saying:
"Dear father, I'm so glad to see you looking so well."
"And I'm well pleased to see you, Kate," responded the Squire, in a toneof deep affection, adding: "And is this your boy?" as Bert, who in themeantime had been lifted down from his place, came to his mother's side.
"He's a fine big boy, and not ill-looking, either. I trust his mannershave not been neglected."
"You'll have to judge of that for yourself, father," replied Mrs. Lloyd."He's by no means perfect, but he's pretty good, upon the whole."
"Well, daughter, I'll go and get the carriage, if you'll just wait herea moment," said Mr. Stewart, going off toward the stables.
Presently he returned, driving an elegant carriage with a fine pair ofwell-matched bays, which, old man though he was, he held in completecontrol.
"We won't mind the trunks now, Kate; I will send in for them in themorning," said he, as he helped them into their seats.
Maplebank, Squire Stewart's place, was situated about four miles fromRiverton, and on the way out father and daughter had much to say to oneanother. As for Bert, he sat in silence on his seat. He felt very muchawed by his grandfather. There was something so stern and severe abouthis time-worn countenance, he seemed so stiff in his bearing, and hisvoice had such a deep, rough tone in it, that, to tell the truth, Bertbegan to feel half sorry he had come. But this feeling disappearedentirely when, on arriving at Maplebank, he found himself in the arms ofAunt Sarah before he had time to jump out of the carriage, and was thenpassed over to his grandmother, who nearly smothered him with kisses.
If his grandfather filled him with awe, his grandmother inspired himwith love, from the very start. And no wonder, indeed, for she was thevery poetry of a grandmother. A small woman, with slender frame, alreadystooping somewhat beneath the burden of years, her snow-white hair andspotless cap framed one of the sweetest faces that ever beamed on thisearth. Bert gave her his whole heart at once, and during all the days hespent at Maplebank she was his best loved friend.
Yet he did not fail to be very fond of his two aunts, likewise. With anuncle, who remained at home, assisting his father in the management ofthe property, they comprised the household, and the three apparentlyconspired to do their best to spoil Master Bert during that summer. Berttook very kindly to the spoiling, too, and under the circumstances itwas a wonder he did not return to Halifax quite demoralised, as regardsdomestic discipline. But of this further.
They were a merry party sitting down to tea that evening, and Bert,having appeased his hunger and found his tongue, amused them all verymuch by his account of what he had seen from the coach top. The narrowescape they had had at Brown's Gully was of course much discussed.Squire Stewart had nothing but censure for the driver.
"The man had no business to go out with anything likely to break. Betterfor you to have waited a day than run any such risks. I shall certainlybring the matter to the attention of Mr. Lindsay," he said.
Nobody ventured to say anything to the contrary; but Bert, who wassitting by his mother, turned an anxious face up to hers, and whispered:"Grandpapa won't hurt Mr. Davis, will he? He was so good to me, and heasked God to save us; and He did."
"It will be all right, dear," his mother whispered back. "Don't worryyourself about it." And Bert, reassured, said nothing more.
Bedtime for him soon came, and then, to his great delight, he found thatinstead of being banished to a room somewhere away upstairs, he was tobe put in a curious bed, that filled a corner of the parlour in whichthe family sat. Bert had never seen anything like that bed before. Itlooked just like a closet, but when you opened the closet door, behold,there was a bed, and a very comfortable one, too. Just behind theparlour, with a door between, was the best bedroom, which his motherwould have, and there Bert undressed, returning in his night-gown to saygoodnight to all before tumbling into bed.
With the closet door wide open, he could see everything that went on inthe room; and it was so delightful to lie there watching the familyreading or talking, until at last, sleep came to claim him.
"Now, if you're a good boy, and don't attempt to talk after your head'son the pillow, I'll leave the door open, so you can see us all," saidAunt Sarah, as she tucked Bert snugly in; and he had sense enough to bea good boy, so that not a sound came from him ere his brown eyes closedfor the night.
Many a night after that did he lie there luxuriously, watching hisgrandfather reading the newspaper, with a candle placed between hisface and the paper, in such close proximity to both, that Bert'sconstant wonder was that one or the other of them never got burned; hisgrandmother, whose eyes no longer permitted her to read at night,knitting busily in her arm-chair, or nodding over her needles; AuntSarah, reading in the book that always lay at hand for leisure moments;Aunt Martha, stitching away, perhaps on some of his own torn garments;his mother writing home to Mr. Lloyd, or to Mary; while from thekitchen, outside, came the subdued sound of the servants' voices, asthey chattered over their tasks. Bert thought it a lovely way to go tosleep, and often afterward, when at home, going up alone to bed in hisown room, wished that he was back at grandfather's again.
Bert slept late the next morning, for he was a very tired boy when hewent to bed; and for this once he was indulged. But as he entered thedining-room, his grandfather, who had finished breakfast a full hourbefore, looking at him with that stern expression which was habitual tohim, said:
"City boys must keep country hours when they come to the country. Earlyto bed, early to rise, is the rule of this house, my boy."
Poor Bert was rather disconcerted by this reception, but managed to say:
"All right, grandpapa, I'll try," as he took his seat.
The day was full of novelty and delight to the city boy, as, under UncleAlec's guidance, he went about the farm, and visited the horses in thestable, the cattle in the pasture, the pigs in the stye; and then, withAunt Martha, inspected the dairy, a big cool room in a small building,well shaded by trees, where long rows of shallow pans stood filled withrich milk or golden cream; while just before tea, Aunt Sarah claimed himfor a walk in the garden, where tiger lilies, hollyhocks, mock oranges,peonies, and other old-fashioned flowers grew in gay profusion.
Grandmother was too much engrossed with her daughter to pay muchattention to Bert that day. Yet he had more than one token of affectionat her hands; and, taken altogether, it was a very happy day.
After tea, Mrs. Lloyd took her son off for a little chat alone, wishingto draw him out as to his first impressions.
"Have you had a happy day, Bert?" she asked.
"Yes, indeed, mother. It has been just splendid. I think grandmamma anduncle and my aunties are lovely, but"--and here Bert hesitated as ifafraid to finish his remark.
"But what, Bert?" asked Mrs. Lloyd. "What were you going to say when youstopped?"
"I don't like grandpapa, mother," said Bert, after a little pause,bringing the words out slowly, and then adding, almost in a whisper,"I'm afraid of grandpapa, mother."
"Hush, Bert. You shouldn't say that you don't like your grandfather.But, tell me, why are you afraid of him?"
"Oh, because he seems so cross, and isn't kind to me like the others."
"But he isn't really cross, Bert. He loves you quite as much as theothers do, but then he is an old man and has a great deal to thinkabout. Now, Bert darling, I want you to learn to love your grandpapa,and to try and never be any bother to him. You will, won't you?"
"I'll try not to be a bother to him, mother, but I don't think it's muchuse my trying to love him unless he stops looking so cross.
"
"Well, try your best, at all events, Bert," said Mrs. Lloyd, giving herson a tender kiss. "And now come, let's see if we can findgrandmother."