Free William Again by Richmal Crompton Page A

slightly.
    ‘Hits of no consequnce,’ she said graciously.
    She had the situation entirely in hand. Even William, born leader as he was, was overshadowed by her, and was content that it should be so. Just as two small boys had climbed the pedestal in the
middle of the ornamental pond and were endeavouring to stop up the fountain, a butler came down the path with an expression of horror on his face. The young man waved him away
    ‘It’s all right, Thomson,’ he said.
    ‘Yes, sir,’ said the man, ‘but her ladyship has arrived, sir. Her ladyship has had her boxes sent upstairs. I thought I’d better warn you, sir.’
    The young man groaned.
    ‘Is there time for me to be summoned to town?’ he asked.
    ‘I’m afraid not,’ replied the butler. ‘She’s coming to find you now, sir. Here she is, sir.’
    A large woman bore down upon them. She wore a large cloak and a large hat, and several Pomeranians trotted at her heels.
    The young man rose to receive her.
    ‘Here you are, Bertram,’ she said. ‘You didn’t invite me, but I’ve come.’
    ‘How awfully good of you,’ said the young man dispiritedly.
    The lady put up her lorgnettes and surveyed the children.
    ‘Who – are – these – ragamuffins?’ she said slowly and distinctly.
    ‘Oh, just a nice little party of mine,’ said the young man pleasantly. ‘St Luke’s and St Mary’s. You’ll get awfully fond of them. They’re very
lovable.’
    The lady’s face became stony
    ‘Are you aware,’ she said, ‘that they’re trampling on the flowers and splashing in the pond and sitting on the sundial?’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ he smiled. ‘Just jolly childish pranks, you know.’
    And that one in the awful tweed cap—’
    ‘He’s an orphan,’ said the young man. ‘I’m going to give you the room next to his. He’s got quite a jolly voice. I heard him humming to himself a moment
ago.’
    At this point four things happened.
    One – William, who had wandered over the flower beds, was suddenly impelled by the general brightness of the day to give vent to his feelings by a burst of song –
    One more river, an’ that’s the river of Jor – or – or – ordan,
    One more river, there’s one more river to cross . . .
    He yelled the words happily in his strident young voice.
    Two – The small pessimist again lifted up her voice in a wail. ‘Oo – oo – oo – oo. I’m tahred of the country I want to gow ’owm. Oo – oo – oo.’
    Three – Eglantine, who had surveyed the visitor in outraged silence for a few moments, at last burst forth. She set her thin hands on her thin hips and began.
    ‘An’ oo’re you ter talk abaht ragamuffins? Queen of Hengland, are yer? An’ wot abaht yer own ’at? A-hinsultin’ of hother people in hother people’s
gardings.’
    Four – The five Poms, excited by the uproar, burst into simultaneous yapping.
    Above the horrible sounds of William’s song, the pessimist’s wails, Eglantine’s recriminations, the Poms’ yapping, the lady screamed to her nephew.

    WILLIAM YELLED THE WORDS IN HIS STRIDENT YOUNG VOICE.
    ‘I’m going straight home, Bertram. When you have a Christian house to invite me to, perhaps you’ll let me know.’
    ‘Yes, Aunt,’ he screamed back. ‘Shall I see you to your car?’
    He left them for a few minutes and returned, mopping his brow, in time to rescue three boys from an early death from drowning in the pond. William and a few other daring spirits were balancing
themselves at a dizzy height on the top of the wall. The young man was beginning to look pale, when once more the butler appeared.
    ‘There’s a gentleman at the front door, sir,’ he said respectfully, ‘who seems in a great state, sir, and he says that he’s lost some slum
children—’
    The young man’s face brightened.
    ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘tell him I’ve found some, and ask him to come and see whether they happen to be his. They’ve done me a very good turn, but I shouldn’t mind
being relieved of them