She's got an old rose-coloured Sevres bowl that
was my Grandmother's, and there it was, filled with bramble leaves and
Traveller's Joy (which _she_ calls Old Man's Beard; Kitty always would
differ from her elders!), and a soup-plate full of forget-me-nots. She
said two of the children had half-drowned themselves and lost a good
straw hat in getting them for her. Just like their mother, as I told
her."
"What did she say when you brought out the basket?" asked Chris,
disposing of his reserve of currants at one mouthful, and laying down
his spoon.
"She said, 'Oh! oh! oh!' till I told her to say something more
amusing, and then she said, 'I could cry for joy!' and, 'Tell Hobbs he
remembers all my favourites.'"
Christopher here bent his head over his empty plate, and said grace
(Chris is very particular about his grace), and then got down from his
chair and went up to Lady Catherine, and threw his arms round her as
far as they would go, saying, "You are good. And I love you. I should
think she thinked you was a fairy godmother."
After they had hugged each other, Aunt Catherine said, "Will you take
me into the game, if I serve them that have no garden?"
Chris and I said "Yes" with one voice.
"Then come into the drawing-room," said Aunt Catherine, getting up and
giving a hand to each of us.
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