<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> CHAPTER XXII.—THE LITTLE CASTLE'S NEW INMATES. </h2>
<p><br/><br/><SPAN name="linkimage-0051" id="linkimage-0051"> </SPAN></p>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/9221.jpg" alt="9221 " width-obs="100%" /><br/><SPAN href="images/9221.jpg"><ANTIMG src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </SPAN></div>
<p class="pfirst">
<span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">N</span>othing could have
exceeded the air of importance with which Albert was striding along the
streets of Windsor, and notwithstanding the shortness of his legs, his <i>valet
de chambre</i>, in the shape of a newly acquired French nurse, had
difficulty in keeping up with him. The fact was, Albert was intrusted with
a most important piece of information—the bearer of a message that
had cleared his own mental horizon from so much as the vestige of a cloud,
and which he felt sure would bring equal joy to the others for whom it was
intended. The destination toward which he steered, without deviation to
right or left, and with great regard for economy of time and space at
corners and crossings, was the Little Castle, and he marched up the path
from terrace to terrace, and rang the bell with all the complacency of a
drum-major.</p>
<p>It was expected, of course, that faithful old Margaret, who was master in
chief of affairs in the Little Castle, would, as usual, in the absence of
the family, answer the bell, and the message intended for her was half way
over Albert's lips before he took in the fact that the individual
who had opened the door bore about as close resemblance to Margaret as the
tower of the Little Castle to its door-mat.</p>
<p>“Why—why, who are you?” asked Albert as soon as he could
check the impassioned utterance of his message, and instantly demanded in
the next breath, “and—and where is Margaret?”</p>
<p>“Here I am, dear,” said Margaret, coming toward him as rapidly
as an extra touch of rheumatism would permit, “and I suppose you
wonder who this is who has let you in?”</p>
<p>“Nes,” said Albert, whose anxiety as to who this intruder
might be was somewhat allayed by Margaret's appearance on the scene.</p>
<p>“Well, this is Mr. Everett Selden, Harold's uncle, who has
come down from London to make us a little visit,” Margaret
explained.</p>
<p>“Oh, dat's all right den!” favoring Mr. Selden with a
benignant smile; “and—and now, Margaret. I came round to tell
you dat dey are coming home on Saturday. We've had a letter from
Dorothy dis morning, and dey sent me down to tell you.” (Margaret
fortunately was considerate enough not to take the wind out of the little
fellow's sails by informing him that they had had letters of their
own that morning.) “And, Margaret, dey will get here in time for
luncheon, and I would have a very good luncheon, Margaret, and everything
all b'ight and shiny.”</p>
<p>“Just as you say, Master Albert,” making a little curtsey to
this self-appointed master, and with difficulty restricting her emotions
to a smile.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Mr. Selden stood on one side immensely entertained, for he had
previously had no idea that executive ability ever made a showing at quite
such an early age.</p>
<p>“And now,” said Albert, free to turn his attention to less
important matters, “did you open the door for me because you saw a
little boy coming up the terrace?”</p>
<p>“Yes, that was the way of it,” Mr. Selden replied.</p>
<p>“But you did not know what little boy I was?”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, I did; Marie-Celeste told me about you one day when I had
a good talk with her in St. George's.”</p>
<p>“Elaine,” said Albert, turning abruptly to the French nurse,
“I would like to talk to Harold's uncle, and I would like to
stay to luncheon—I often stay to luncheon, don't I, Margaret?”
Margaret's answer was that he often did, and Mr. Selden's
assurance that nothing would give him greater pleasure at once settled the
matter, and Elaine was compelled to return without her charge, but
entrusted with the message to Albert's mamma that Mr. Selden would
himself bring him home early in the afternoon.</p>
<p>“I remember that Marie-Celeste told me,” said Mr. Selden,
placing a comfortable chair for Albert opposite his own, near the open
window, “that you were very fond of a good talk now and then; and I'm
very glad of that, because there isn't anything else that I could do
to amuse you.”</p>
<p>“Why isn't there?” said Albert, noting Mr. Selden's
dressing-gown, and impressed with his semi-invalid air; “aren't
you strong enough to do anything but talk?”</p>
<p>“No, I'm not so badly off as that yet, Albert; but you see I've
lived alone so long; that I haven't much of an idea how to amuse
little boys.”</p>
<p>“Why did you tome down here when ev'rybody was away?”
for Albert felt that the case needed to be still further investigated;
“were you inwited?”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, indeed I was invited! Harold's brother Ted invited
me—urged me, I may say, to come whenever I chose, and to stay as
long as I liked.”</p>
<p>“How long do you sink you will like to stay?”</p>
<p>“I think I would like to stay always.”</p>
<p>“Always till you die?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I think I should—that is, if you don't mind,
Albert;” for Albert's sense of proprietorship in the Little
Castle was very evident.</p>
<p>“Oh, no, I'll not mind—perhaps we'll grow to be
friends, and often have long talks. Marie-Celeste said you had long talks
on the steamer—that was how she came to know you so well.”</p>
<p>“Yes, we did have beautiful talks on the steamer, but the very best
one of all was in St. George's Chapel, a month or so ago.”</p>
<p>“Nes, I know,” as though there was little of interest to
Marie-Celeste that was not sooner or later confided to him. “Did she
tell you dat time, Mr. Selden, 'bout our Knight-of-de-Gartcr day?”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, indeed.”</p>
<p>“And 'bout dis?” groping in the side-pocket of his
sacque, and producing a little circle of blue ribbon.</p>
<p>“I can't quite make out what it is, Albert,” said Mr.
Selden, peering anxiously at the rather indistinguishable little object.</p>
<p>“Well, dat's what it is and drawing up his kilt and the
trouser leg underneath, Albert slipped the garter over his foot and up to
its right place, just above the knee. This brought the gold lettering
partly into view, and enabled Mr. Selden to grasp the situation.</p>
<p>“Oh, I see,” he said; “you made believe you were a
little Knight of the Garter yourself.”</p>
<p>“Nes; just for a bit of fun, I made believe I was a little knight
all dat day; but of course I didn't tell anybody, only Dorothy, who
made it for me. But do you know,” very confidentially, “dat I
felled asleep in de church beside Timothy, so dat de garter showed, and
den de children teased me awfully 'bout it, and Marie-Celeste calls
me her little knight now almost always. But you won't ever tell dat
I told you why she calls me dat, will you?”</p>
<p>“No, I promise, Albert;” and Margaret coming in just then to
announce luncheon, the blue garter was surreptitiously removed and left
for the time being on the library table, and was not thought of again by
its rightful owner. Mr. Selden, finding it there later in the afternoon,
slipped it into his pocket, with an idea of the use he might some time
make of it.</p>
<p>For the next three days, to Mr. Selden's delight and amusement,
Albert was a constant visitor at the Little Castle, and when Saturday came
he put in an appearance at a prematurely early hour, for fear, by any
chance, the driving party should reach home before the time appointed; and
as that was exactly what they did do, he congratulated himself very highly
for his extraordinary forethought. Not but what he had full three hours to
spare, only the Allyns, who were invited to luncheon at the Castle,
failing to reach there before the arrival of the brake, he felt that
nothing but his own timely precaution had spared him a similar
disappointment.</p>
<p>“Dat sounds like dem,” said Albert for about the fiftieth time
to Mr. Selden.</p>
<p>“Hardly, I think;” but humoring Albert to the extent of
stepping out on to the door-step; “it is a whole hour ahead of time
yet.”</p>
<p>Hut Albert was right, and a moment later the four-in-hand wheeled up at
the gate, and the glorious driving trip was over.</p>
<p>“Who can that possibly be with Albert?” queried Harold,
naturally mystified at the appearance of a gentleman, in the easy costume
of house coat and slippers, standing complacently in the doorway of the
Little Castle.</p>
<p>“It's Uncle Everett, that's who it is;” and
clambering down the side of the coach, Ted was up the path, and had him
cordially by the hand in less than a minute.</p>
<p>“Well, this beats all,” said Harold to himself; “what is
going to happen next, I wonder?” But he had the graciousness to
defer his own greeting to Uncle Everett until he assisted Aunt Lou and
Dorothy and Marie-Celeste to dismount, by aid of the brake's steps,
and which much practice, by the way, enabled them to accomplish very
skilfully.</p>
<p>Albert, you may be sure, was standing as close as possible to the foot of
the steps, and tumbled curls and rumpled collar soon bore witness to an
exceedingly hearty exchange of greetings. But the beauty of it was, that
everybody seemed to have every whit as glad a welcome for Uncle Everett as
Ted himself; and for Mr. and Mrs. Harris the surprise was in store of
finding that Marie-Celeste's steamer friend and Uncle Everett were
one and the same person; but surprises being the order of the day just
then, everybody was coming to take them quite as a matter of course. Mr.
Selden soon sought out an opportunity to tell why he had been so
ungracious as not to reveal his identity on the steamer, though he felt
naturally that his explanation did not reflect very much to his credit, as
was indeed the truth; but Mr. and Mrs. Harris were not the people to bear
a grudge against anybody if it could by any reasonable possibility be
dispensed with, and of course other explanations were called for. Uncle
Everett's presence had to be explained to Harold, and Ted told him
all about their week together in London, but not yet about the borrowed
money. That confession, together with all the rest, would be made a little
later on, when Harold and he should have gotten a little nearer still to
each other.</p>
<p>Well, it was a merry luncheon they had in the Little Castle, but after
luncheon the situation grew rather serious and pathetic. They had had such
a good time together for four happy weeks, it seemed hard each to have to
go his own way and realize that all the good times were over; and,
happily, even Mr. Farwell felt very sorry, too, notwithstanding he had
been obliged to concede rather more than was altogether agreeable after
Ted made his advent among them.</p>
<p><br/><br/></p>
<hr />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />