Read Online The Four Graces by D. E. Stevenson - Free Book Online

soldiers…the hillside had echoed to their shouts, to the rattle of their armor and the tramp of their feet…
    William Single was hundreds of years away in time when he heard the rumble of iron-shod wheels upon the stony track. This did not surprise him, nor did it draw him back to the present year of grace (for, of course, the Roman garrison had chariots at their beck and call), but when he raised his eyes, half-expecting to see a chariot descending the hill, he saw instead a farm cart, piled with marigolds, driven by a young woman with curly, golden hair.
    â€œLiz!” exclaimed Mr. Single, leaping two thousand years or thereabouts in a second of time.
    â€œYes, it’s me,” said Liz, smiling down at him. “I suppose you thought it was a Roman girl or something.”
    â€œEr—not exactly,” he replied, rising and holding out his hand to help her down.
    â€œYou were dreaming about the Romans, weren’t you?”
    â€œEr—yes. Roman legionaries. There were not many Roman girls in this part of the world.”
    â€œAnd they didn’t drive chariots, I suppose?”
    â€œNo,” said William Single.
    â€œDull for them,” said Liz, putting her hand in his and leaping to the ground. “Very dull for them. I suppose they did embroidery while their knights fought duels in the lists—or am I muddling it up with Ivanhoe ?’
    â€œI think you are,” said William Single gravely.
    â€œArchie told me you were here,” said Liz, as she took a rope and tied up her horse. “I had to go up to the seven-acre field for marigolds, so I thought I’d come back this way and have lunch with you. Have you had lunch yet?”
    â€œLunch?” he said in surprise.
    â€œYes, lunch. You’ll find some sandwiches in your pocket. Sal put them there this morning.”
    He searched his pockets and found the little parcel. “How kind of her!” he said.
    Liz was looking around. “You haven’t started yet, or have you? Are you going to dig holes? Will there be gold coins buried here? I suppose they’ll belong to you if you find them, won’t they? How do you know where to look?”
    â€œNo—yes—no,” said William Single breathlessly.
    Liz gave a little snort of laughter. “Oh, poor William!” she said. “It will take you some time to get used to the Graces, won’t it? By the way, I suppose I can call you William as you’ve started calling me Liz?”
    â€œIt was a mistake,” said William hastily. “It was just—seeing you suddenly—it came out without thinking.”
    â€œThat’s the best way,” Liz told him. “I mean it’s much more natural that way than somebody you don’t like at all saying, call me Maureen.”
    William began to laugh.
    â€œYes, it is funny,” agreed Liz, smiling gently. “Call me Maureen, she says, and of course you simply can’t, because you only think of her as Mrs. Snooks, so you avoid calling her anything at all or you address her as ‘Er—I say.’”
    â€œâ€˜She would answer to “Hie” or to any loud cry,’” said William, shaking and mopping his eyes.
    â€œOh,” cried Liz in delight. “Oh, of course… The Hunting of the Snark .”
    â€œHa-ha-ha!” laughed William.
    â€œâ€˜His intimate friends called him Candle-Ends.’ I shall call you Candle-Ends, William,” said Liz gravely.
    â€œAs long as—you don’t call me—Toasted Cheese,” agreed William, gasping and shaking and rocking to and fro with uncontrollable mirth.
    When William had recovered a little, they sat down together and ate their lunch, and Liz was surprised to find that William could talk quite reasonably. So far she had only heard him talking to her father about Roman Britain; he had been dumb in the company of herself and her sisters. He explained this by saying he was