Indeed that little lawn at Myrtlewood was a battle-field, of which
Alison used to carry her sister amusing and characteristic sketches. The
two leading players were Miss Keith and Mr. Touchett, who alone had
any idea of tactics; but what she did by intuition, sleight of hand or
experience, he effected by calculation and generalship, and even when
Conrade claimed the command of his own side, the suggestions of the
curate really guided the party. Conrade was a sort of Murat on
the croquet field, bold, dashing, often making wonderful hits, but
uncertain, and only gradually learning to act in combination. Alison was
a sure-handed, skilful hitter, but did not aspire to leadership. Mamma
tried to do whatever her boys commanded, and often did it by a sort of
dainty dexterity, when her exultation, was a very pretty sight, nor was
Grace's lady-like skill contemptible, but having Francis as an ally was
like giving a castle; and he was always placed on the other side from
Conrade, as it was quite certain that he would do the very reverse of
whatever his brother advised. Now and then invitations were given for
Rose Williams to join the game, but her aunts never accepted them.
Ermine had long ago made up her mind against intimacies between her
niece and any pupils of Alison's, sure that though starts of pleasure
might result, they would be at the cost of ruffling, and, perhaps,
perturbing the child's even stream of happiness--even girl-friendships
might have been of doubtful effect where circumstances were so unequal;
but Lady Temple's household of boys appeared to Ermine by no means
a desirable sphere for her child to be either teased or courted
in. Violetta, Colinette, and Augustus were safer comrades, and Rose
continued to find them sufficient, varied with the rare delight of now
and then sharing her aunt's drive, and brightened by many a kind message
in Colonel Keith's letters to her aunt, nay, occasionally a small letter
to herself, or an enclosure of some pretty photograph for her much-loved
scrap book, or some article for Colinette's use, sometimes even a new
book! She was never forgotten in his letters, and Ermine smiled her
strange pensive smile of amusement at his wooing of the unconscious
Rose.