"Oh, when we're by ourselves," the kindly little old
hostess explained to him, "my daughter and I breakfast
always at nine. That was our hour yesterday morning,
for example. But when my son is here, then it's farewell
to regularity. We put breakfast back till ten, then,
as a kind of compromise between our own early habits
and his lack of any sort of habits. Why we do it I
couldn't say--because he never comes down in any event.
He sleeps so well at Hadlow--and you know in town he sleeps
very ill indeed--and so we don't dream of complaining.
We're only too glad--for his sake."
"And Balder," commented the sister, "he's as bad the other way.
He gets up at some unearthly hour, and has his tea and a
sandwich from the still-room, and goes off with his rod
or his gun or the dogs, and we never see him till luncheon."
"I've been on the point of asking so many times,"
Miss Madden interposed--"is Balder a family name,
or is it after the Viking in Matthew Arnold's poem?"
"It was his father's choice," Lady Plowden made answer.
"I think the Viking explanation is the right one--it
certainly isn't in either family. I can't say that it
attracted me much--at first, you know."
"Oh, but it fits him so splendidly," said Lady Cressage.
"He looks the part, as they say. I always thought it
was the best of all the soldier names--and you have only
to look at him to see that he was predestined for a soldier
from his cradle.
Pages:
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127