The Golden Calf

dulating district nestles the village of Kingthorpe, with its half-dozen handsome old houses, its richly cultivated gardens, and quaint old square-towered church. It is a prosperous, well-

s has a roomy cottage and an acre of garden for sixpence a-week, his daily dole of milk from the home farm, as much wood as he can burn, blankets and coals at

, shadowed by a screen of tall elms. There was a duck-pond in front of a low red-brick inn which reminded one of Birkett Foster, and made the central feature of the village; a spot of busy life where all else was stillness. There were accommodation roads leading off to distant farm

t in the Wendover landau at her father's desire; but she would have preferred to have had her own smart little pony-carriage to meet her at the station. To drive her own carriage, w

with delight at taking her friend home with her. She watched Ida's eyes as

ed, squeezing Ida's hand, as the summer shadows and summ

are lovely,' answ

t open hill country and came into a more fertile scene, a high road, which was like an avenue in a gentleman's park, and then the village duck-pond and red homestead, the old gray church, with its gilded sun-

f architecture - a cottage with plate-glass windows, shaded by Spanish blinds, a glazed verandah sheltering a tesselated walk,

ncreased the number of rooms, but not the general convenience of the dwelling. He had been his own architect, and the result was a variety of levels and a breakneck arrangem

making her adieux at the carriage door; 'you'll come over to dinner, won't you,

rst evening at home. I'm never dull,' ans

ld be wretched if I found myself alone in a house. Do run over

ls in short petticoats and boys in Eton jackets; a raid upon the plum-trees on the crumbling red brick walls of the fine old kitchen-garden; winding u

ired,' she said, with languid politeness, and then she

each side of the tall door, and nine in each upper story, a house that looked all eyes, and was a blaze of splendour when the western sun shone upon its many windows. The house stood on a b

owers grew as they only grow for those who love them dearly. This gate stood hospitably open at all times, and many

on of guns, fishing-rods, whips, canes, cricket-bats, croquet-mallets, and all things appertaining to the out-door amusements of a numerous family. A large tiger skin stretched before the drawing-room door was one memorial of Colonel Wendover's Indian life; a tiger's

lessly on the old oak chairs - there was a licentious mixture of styles in the furniture - half Old English, half Indian, and all the

f red brick, like the mansion itself. On each side of the broad walk there was a strip of grass, just about wide enough for a bowling-gr

ou mother?

I've described her often enough. How good of her to be here to welcome us!' a

ittle way from The Knoll. A lady who had plenty of money and decidedly masculine tastes, which she indulged freely;

er decidedly was, but she carried her bulkiness well. She still maintained a waist, firmly braced above her expansive hips. She walked well, and was more active than many smaller women. Indeed, her life was ful

on an oak, and the two thus united came up the bro

l with her large figure. 'I have heard a great deal about you from this enthusiastic child - so much th

other?' as

o call on the new vicar. There's t

to get over the introduction to Aunt Betsy, s

not consider themselves called on to pre

y still, with a round-faced innocent prettiness which made her look almost as young as her eldest daughter. Her husband loved her with a fondly protecting and almost paternal affection, which was very pleasant to behold; and she held him in devoted reverence, as the beginning and end of all that was worth loving and knowing in the

ldness in their greeting her pride would have risen in arms against them, and she would have made herself eminently dis

,' she said, when Mrs. Wendover had

d the mother, 'and it is not in Bessie's nat

the mother's

ll of love some may run over and get w

the Colonel and his wife since their entrance. 'You know there was that half-bred terrier you

compare me to a half-bred t

s black as my hat,' said the boy decisively. It was his w

er to the friendly abbreviations Reg and Horry. Both had chubby faces, liberally freckled, warts on their hands, and rumpled hair; and it was not easy for a new comer to distinguish Horatio from Reginald, or Reginald from Horatio. The

ced upon Ida, as a being sent

when they had all swarmed up to the long co

already,'

nd rosy, in a holland pinafore, putting the questi

know,' said I

oneths, tho pwutty. Will

see lop-eared rabbits, guinea-pigs, a tame water-rat in the rushes of the duck-pond, a collectio

ay!' cried Bessie, loftily. 'Ida a

and then Bessie led her friend into a large sunny room fronting westward, a room with three windows, cushioned window-seats

howed her friend an exclusive dressing-table, daintily draperied, and e

s work of art the door was suddenly op

e, Miss Palliser, every

o, and Bessie rushed across

em all one after

them out on

no peace. I can see they are goi

. Do you know, Bessie, this is my fir

t your father,' re

ly gave me a very good education. That went on for nine years - a long time to spend with two old maids in a dull little house at Turnham Green - and then I had a letter from my father to say he had come home for good. He had sold his commission and meant to settle down in some quiet spot abroad. His first duty would be to make arrangeme

ssie. 'Did your heart war

r to his cottage, near Dieppe, to spend my holidays, I found that my stepmother was a kind-hearted, pretty little thing, whom I might look down upon for her want of educati

that baby boy,' protested

old when I was at Les Fontaines, and tha

than two years without once going home for t

d his wife and boy. If you were to see the little box of a house they inhabit in that tiny French village, you would wonder that anybody bigger than a pigeon could live in so small a place. They have a narrow garden, and there is an orchard on t

e, who had a large stock of

s stretched on his favourite sofa, reading a county paper. Since his retirement from active service into domestic idleness the Colonel had required a great deal of rest, and was to be found at all hours of the day extended at ease on his own particular sofa. During his intervals of activity he exh

seldom seen far apart - with a large basket of crewel-work beside her, containing sundry squares

rved wooden chimney-piece faced the bay. The floor was polished oak, with only an island of faded Persian carpet in the centre, and Indian prayer rugs lying about here and there. There were chairs and tables of richly carved Bombay blackwood, Japanese cabinets in th

good King Louis Philippe in his tranquil retirement at Claremont. Even the lisping girl who loved pigs had her place at the board, and knew how to behave herself. There was a subdued struggle for the seat next Ida, whom the Colonel had placed on his right, but Reginald, the elder of the Winchester boys, asserted his claim with a quiet firmness that proved irresistible. Grace was said with solemn brevity by the Colonel, whose sum total of orthodoxy was comprised in that brief grace, and in regular at

d off to play lawn tennis,

ow you're tired, darling. Come and rest

empting, but i

nche, boldly. 'You're not ti

e,' replied Ida. 'But you are n

all you Ida? Th

. 'Don't begin by making distinctions. B

s Palliser, laughing. 'I am

ne off to the garde

rass in front of the bay window, and here the el

h her decided air, whereupon the Colonel and his wife assent

bly handsome,'

and that's of much more con

and that is so truly nice in