shrimp boys do go in the mud,’ shrewdly pleaded Owen, setting Honor off laughing at Humfrey’s discomfited look of diversion.
‘It won’t do to generalize,’ she said, merrily. ‘Owen must be content to regard crabs and shrimp boys as privileged individuals.’
Owen demanded whether when he was big he might be a shrimp boy, and a good deal of fraternization had taken place between him and Mr. Charlecote before the cottage was reached.
It was a very happy day to Honora; there was a repose and trust to be felt in Humfrey’s company, such as she had not experienced since she had lost her parents, and the home sense of kindred was very precious. Only women whose chief prop is gone, can tell the value of one who is still near enough to disapprove without ceremony.
The anxiety that Honor felt to prove to her cousin that it was not a bit of romantic folly to have assumed her present charge, was worth more than all the freedom of action in the world. How much she wanted the children to show off to advantage! how desirous she was that he should not think her injudicious! yes, and how eager to see him pleased with their pretty looks!
Lucilla came down cleaned, curled, and pardoned, and certainly a heart must have been much less tender than Humfrey Charlecote’s not to be touched by the aspect of those two little fair waxen-looking beings in the deepest mourning of orphanhood. He was not slow in making advances towards them, but the maiden had been affronted, and chose to be slyly shy and retiring, retreating to the other side of Miss Wells, and there becoming intent upon her story-book, though many a gleam through her eyelashes betrayed furtive glances at the stranger whom Owen was monopolizing. And then she let herself be drawn out, with the drollest mixture of arch demureness and gracious caprice. Honora had never before seen her with a gentleman, and to be courted was evidently as congenial an element to her as to a reigning beauty. She was perfectly irresistible to manhood, and there was no doubt, ere the evening was over, that Humfrey thought her one of the prettiest little girls he had ever seen.
He remained a week at Sandbeach, lodging at the inn, but spending most of his time with Honor. He owned that he had been unwell, and there certainly was a degree of lassitude about him, though Honor suspected that his real motive in coming was brotherly kindness and desire to see whether she were suffering much from the death of Owen Sandbrook. Having come, he seemed not to know how to go away. He was too fond of children to become weary of their petty exactions, and they both had a sort of passion for him; he built castles for them on the beach, presided over their rides, took them out boating, and made them fabulously happy. Lucilla had not been so good for weeks, and the least symptom of an outbreak was at once put down by his good-natured ‘No, no!’ The evenings at the cottage with Honora and Miss Wells, music and bright talk, were evidently very refreshing to him, and he put off his departure from day to day, till an inexorable matter of county business forced him off.
Not till the day was imminent, did the cousins quit the easy surface of holiday leisure talk. They had been together to the late evening service, and were walking home, when Honora began abruptly, ‘Humfrey, I wish you would not object to the children giving me pet names.’
‘I did not know that I had shown any objection.’
‘As if you did not impressively say Miss Charlecote on every occasion when you mention me to them.’
‘Well, and is not it more respectful?’
‘That’s not what I want. Where the natural tie is wanting, one should do everything to make up for it.’
‘And you hope to do so by letting yourself be called Honey-pots!’
‘More likely than by sitting up distant and awful to be Miss Charlecoted!’
‘Whatever you might be called must become an endearment,’ said Humfrey, uttering unawares one of the highest compliments she had ever received, ‘and I own I do not like to hear those little chits make so free with your name.’
‘For my sake, or theirs?’
‘For both. There is an old saying about familiarity, and I think you should recollect that, for the children’s own good, it is quite as needful to strengthen respect as affection.’
‘And you think I can do that by fortifying myself with Miss Charlecote? Perhaps I had better make it Mrs. Honora Charlecote at once, and get a high cap, a rod, and a pair of spectacles, eh? No! if they won’t respect me out of a buckram suit, depend upon it they would find out it was a hollow one.’
Humfrey smiled. From her youth up, Honor could generally come off in apparent triumph from an argument with him, but the victory was not always where the triumph was.
‘Well, Humfrey,’ she said, after some pause, ‘do you think I am fit to be trusted with my two poor children?’
There was a huskiness in his tone as he said, ‘I am sincerely glad you have the pleasure and comfort of them.’
‘I suspect there’s a reservation there. But really, Humfrey, I don’t think I went out searching for the responsibility in the way that makes it dangerous. One uncle did not want them, and the other could not have them, and it would have been mere barbarity in me not to offer. Besides, their father wished—’ and her voice faltered with tears.
‘No, indeed,’ said Humfrey, eagerly, ‘I did not in the least mean that it is not the kindest, most generous requital,’ and there he broke off, embarrassed by the sincere word that he had uttered, but before she had spoken an eager negative—to what she knew not—he went on. ‘And of course I don’t mean that you are not one to manage them very well, and all that—only I hope there may not be pain in store—I should not like those people to use you for their nursery governess, and then take the children away just as you had set your heart upon them. Don’t do that, Honor,’ he added, with an almost sad earnestness.
‘Do what? Set my heart on them? Do you think I can help loving the creatures?’ she said, with mournful playfulness, ‘or that my uncertain tenure does not make them the greater darlings?’
‘There are ways of loving without setting one’s heart,’ was the somewhat grave reply.
He seemed to be taking these words as equivalent to transgressing the command that requires all our heart, and she began quickly, ‘Oh! but I didn’t mean—’ then a sudden thrill crossed her whether there might not be some truth in the accusation. Where had erst the image of Owen Sandbrook stood? First or second? Where was now the image of the boy? She turned her words into ‘Do you think I am doing so—in a wrong way?’
‘Honor dear, I could not think of wrong where you are concerned,’ he said. ‘I was only afraid of your kindness bringing you pain, if you rest your happiness very much upon those children.’
‘I see,’ said Honor, smiling, relieved. ‘Thank you, Humfrey; but you see I can’t weigh out my affection in that fashion. They will get it, the rogues!’
‘I’m not afraid, as far as the girl is concerned,’ said Humfrey. ‘You are strict enough with her.’
‘But how am I to be strict when poor little Owen never does anything wrong?’
‘Yes, he is a particularly sweet child.’
‘And not at all wanting in manliness,’ cried Honor, eagerly. ‘So full of spirit, and yet so gentle. Oh! he is a child whom it is a privilege to train, and I don’t think I have spoilt him yet, do you?’
‘No,
