always thought as
she thought, and fondly agreed with her that going to Allington was a
bore, and that he did not know how she was to wade through all that snow
in thin boots and silk stockings, and not endanger her life by the
exposure.

Only Grey was happy; Grey, grown from the blue-eyed baby boy, who used
to dig his little heels so vigorously into the rotten base-board under
the bench in the wood-shed of the farm house, into the tall, blue-eyed,
open-faced lad of fourteen, of whom it could be truly said that never
had his parents been called upon to blush for a mean or vicious act
committed by him. Faulty he was, of course, with a hot temper when
roused, and a strong, indomitable will, which, however, was seldom
exercised on the wrong side. Honorable, generous, affectionate, and pure
in all his thoughts as a young girl, he was the idol of his aunts and
the pride of his father and mother, the latter of whom he treated with a
teasing playfulness such as he would have shown to a sister, if he had
one.

Mrs. Jerrold was very proud of her bright, handsome boy, and had a
brilliant career marked out for him; Andover first, then Harvard, and
two years or more at Oxford, and then some high-born English wife, for
Mrs. Jerrold was thoroughly European in her tastes, and toadied to the
English in a most disgusting manner.

During her many trips across the water, she had been presented to the
queen, had attended, by invitation, a garden party, and a ball at which
the Prince and Princess of Wales were present, and had spent several
weeks in the country houses of some of the wealthy English.
Consequently, she considered herself quite _au fait_ with their style
and customs, which she never failed to descant upon, greatly to the
amusement of her listeners, and the mortification of Grey, who was now
old enough to see how ridiculous it made his mother appear.

Grey was delighted to go to Allington, and the grandest dinner party in
the world, with all the peers of England as guests, would have been a
small compensation for the good cheer he expected both at Grey's Park,
and at the farm-house. He was glad, too, for the snow and as the express
train sped swiftly on, and he watched it from the window, falling in
blinding sheets and covering all the hill-tops, he thought what fun it
would be on the morrow to drive his Aunt Lucy's bays over to the
farm-house after his Aunt Hannah, whom he would take for a long drive
across the country,