Good-bye to Beecham. 149

 

boy brother was much more in my
thoughts now.

I don’t think I had ever known
till now that my mother was grand-
mamma's eldest child, so it had
never struck me that, now that
dear uncle was gone, Bobby, and
not Harry, would be master of
Beecham Park! How strange it
did seem! I thought of the funny
boy's blushing awkwardness when
grandmamma had told him, and
then of his confession to me that
“at was a horrid bore, he had so
meant to be a discoverer, and get
lost in Africa like Dr. Livingstone ;
and now, he supposed, he couldn’t!”’