"One day at one end of Europe, the next at the other.
Don't think of him, child. He is better worth thinking of than most men,
but none of them are worth it. Good-bye, Bawn; be sure and write us
word of all your fine doings."
Miss Henrietta came with me to the phaeton to whisper in my ear that I
was not to mind her sister's odd views about gentlemen, because poor
Bride lived in perpetual fear that she, Miss Henrietta, might marry and
leave her.
CHAPTER XIV
THE MINIATURE
As we jogged along in the evening coolness and sweetness, we came upon
Sir Arthur Ardaragh with little Robin on his shoulder. The boy shouted
with joy when he saw me; and when I had stopped the phaeton he called
down from his height about the picnic tea father and he had had in the
fields, his little fat hand upon his father's neck while he told it.
"Robin often won't eat a good tea in the nursery," his father explained.
"I think he wants other little boys to make him eat; he eats a famous
tea when we have it together out-of-doors and travel a distance before
we have it."
"I never want other boys, dada," Robin said, "when I have you. You are
better than a brother even."
"Have you been to see Sybil?" Sir Arthur asked, recapturing the young
gentleman and lifting him again to his shoulder.
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