Mrs. Wilkie sighed deeply as she showed her son the
many improvements which had been made in the old house, and thought
that her reign was at an end and that a new Caesar had taken the
reins of government. The Lord of the Manor failed to observe the
trepidation with which his mother handed him the keys, and showed
him the various details connected with the management of the house,
and with a cool "good night, mother," he retired to rest, at peace
with his mother, himself, and the world.
For several months things went smoothly enough with the parties to
my narrative. The dowager accepted her position, though, it must be
confessed, with a bad grace, and the new mistress gave a life to the
place to which it was unaccustomed. At length Mrs. Wilkie gave birth
to a son, and great were the rejoicing and festivities. The dowager
was promoted to the title of grandmamma, John boasted the proud
title of father, and the mother's joy knew no bounds. The child was
in due time christened with appropriate solemnity, and in a few
months after his birth he became a very important member of the
Wilkie family.
Mr. Wilkie wanted the boy called William after his late father, but
Mrs. Wilkie would not have what she was pleased to term a plebeian
designation, and insisted on calling him Alexander.
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