tanned arms and legs as usual, tie up his sleeves with blue bows as
you did last Sunday, put my white tennis-cap on the back of his
yellow curls, turn him loose in the hollyhocks, and await results.
Did I not open the gate the moment I saw him, though there was no
apartment sign in the window?"

Mrs. Bobby was overcome by the magic of my arguments, and as there
were positively no attendant risks, we decided on an early opening.
The very next day after the hanging of the second sign, I
superintended the arrangements myself. It was a nice thirsty
afternoon, and as I filled the flower-vases I felt such a desire for
custom and such a love of trade animating me that I was positively
ashamed. At three o'clock I went upstairs and threw myself on the
bed for a nap, for I had been sketching on the hills since early
morning. It may have been an hour later when I heard the sound of
voices and the stopping of a heavy vehicle before the house. I
stole to the front window, and, peeping under the shelter of the
vines, saw a char-a-bancs, on the way from Great Belvern to the
Beacon. It held three gentlemen, two ladies, and four children, and
everything had worked precisely as I intended. The driver had seen
the watering-trough, the gentlemen had seen the tea-sign, the
children had seen the flowers and the canaries, and the ladies had
seen the baby. I went to the back window to call an encouraging
word to Mrs. Bobby, but to my horror I saw that worthy woman
disappearing at the extreme end of the lane in full chase of our
cow, that had broken down the fence, and was now at large with some
of our neighbour's turnip-tops hanging from her mouth.