a-banc
things, and Alice thought she was going to enjoy herself tremendously.
Nothing of the kind. They had hardly said "Good morning," when old Mrs.
Murry began to talk about Kew Gardens, and how beautiful it must be
there, and how much more convenient it was than Hampton, and no expense
at all; just the trouble of walking over the bridge. Then she went on
to say, as they were waiting for the char-a-banc, that she had always
heard there was nothing to see at Hampton, except a lot of nasty, grimy
old pictures, and some of them not fit for any decent woman, let alone
girl, to look at, and she wondered why the Queen allowed such things to
be shown, putting all kinds of notions into girls' heads that were light
enough already; and as she said that she looked at Alice so
nastily--horrid old thing--that, as she told me afterwards, Alice would
have slapped her face if she hadn't been an elderly woman, and George's
mother. Then she talked about Kew again, saying how wonderful the
hot-houses were, with palms and all sorts of wonderful things, and a
lily as big as a parlour table, and the view over the river. George was
very good, Alice told me. He was quite taken aback at first, as the old
woman had promised faithfully to be as nice as ever she could be; but
then he said, gently but firmly, "Well, mother, we must go to Kew some
other day, as Alice has set her heart on Hampton for to-day, and I want
to see it myself!" All Mrs. Murry did was to snort, and look at the girl
like vinegar, and just then the char-a-banc came up, and they had to
scramble for their seats. Mrs. Murry grumbled to herself in an
indistinct sort of voice all the way to Hampton Court. Alice couldn't
very well make out what she said, but now and then she seemed to hear
bits of sentences, like: _Pity to grow old, if sons grow bold_; and
_Honour thy father and mother_; and _Lie on the shelf, said the
housewife to the old shoe, and the wicked son to his mother_; and _I
gave you milk and you give me the go-by_. Alice thought they must be
proverbs (except the Commandment, of course), as George was always
saying how old-fashioned his mother is; but she says there were so many
of them, and all pointed at her and George, that she thinks now Mrs.
Murry must have made them up as they drove along. She says it would be
just like her to do it, being old-fashioned, and ill-natured too, and
fuller of talk than a butcher on Saturday night. Well, they got to
Hampton at last, an