V
Roy walked into Dormstaple at about one o’clock, very tired and hot and dusty and hungry. With the exception of a lift for a mile and a half in the baker’s cart, he had had to walk or run all the way. A little later, after asking his way more than once, he stood on the doorstep of the Miss Bannisters’ house. The door was opened by old Eliza, and as the flavour of roast fowl rushed out, Roy knew how hungry he was. “I want to see the Miss Bannisters’ Brother,” he said, “please.”
“You’re too late,” was the answer, “and it’s the wrong door. Come to-morrow morning, and go to the Hinfirmary. Mr. Theodore never sees children in the afternoon.”
“Oh, but I must,” Roy almost sobbed.
“Chut, chut!” said old Eliza, “little boys shouldn’t say must.”
“But when they must, what else is there for them to say?” Roy asked.
“Chut, chut!” said old Eliza again. “That’s himperent! Now run away, and come to-morrow morning.”
This was too much for Roy. He covered his face with his hands, and really and truly cried—a thing he would scorn to do on his own account.
While he stood there in this distress a hand was placed on his arm and he was drawn gently into the house. He heard the door shut behind him. The hand then guided him along passages into a great room, and there he was liberated. Roy looked round; it was the most fascinating room he had ever seen. There was a long bench at the window, with a comfortable chair before it, and on the bench were hammers and chisels and all kinds of tools. A ship nearly finished lay in one place, a clockwork steamer in another, a pair of rails wound about the floor on the cocoa-nut matting—in and out like a snake—on which a toy train probably ran, and here and there were signals. On the shelves were coloured papers, bottles, boxes, and wire. In one corner was a huge kite, as high as a man, with a great face painted on it. Several dolls, more or less broken, lay on the table.
All this he saw in a moment. Then he looked at the owner of the hand, who had been standing beside him all the while with an amused expression on his delicate, kind face. Roy knew in an instant it was the Miss Bannisters’ Brother.
“Well,” said the Miss Bannisters’ Brother; “so when one must, one must?”
“Yes,” Roy said half timidly.
“Quite right too,” said the Miss Bannisters’ Brother. “‘Must’ is a very good word, if one has the character to back it up. And now tell me, quickly, what is the trouble? Something very small, I should think, or you wouldn’t be able to carry it in your pocket.”
“It’s not in my pocket,” Roy said; “it’s not here at all. I want—I want a lesson.”
“A lesson?” the Miss Bannisters’ Brother asked in surprise.
“Yes, in eye-mending. When eyes fall inside and rattle, you know.”
The Miss Bannisters’ Brother sat down, and took Roy between his knees. There was something about this little dusty, nervous boy that his clients (often tearful enough) had never displayed before, and he wished to understand it. “Now tell me all about it,” he said.
Roy told him everything, right from the first.
“And what is your father’s name?” was the only question that had to be asked. When he heard this, the Miss Bannisters’ Brother rose. “You must stay here a minute,” he said.
“But—but the lesson?” Roy exclaimed. “You know I ought to be getting back again. Christina——”
“All right, just a minute,” the Miss Bannisters’ Brother replied.
When the Miss Bannisters’ Brother came back, Miss Selina came with him. “Come and get tidy. You are just in time for dinner,” she said, “and afterwards we are going to drive home with you.”
“Oh, but I can’t stop for dinner!” Roy cried. “It’s much too important to stop for dinner; I’m not really hungry, either.”
“Dinner will only take a little while,” said Miss Selina, “and the horses can be getting ready at the same time; and if you were to walk you wouldn’t be home nearly so soon as you will if you drive, dinner-time included.”
“Besides,” said the Miss Bannisters’ Brother, “I’m much too hungry to give lessons. I need heaps of food—chicken and things—before I can give a lesson.”
“But Christina——” Roy gasped again.
“And, as a matter of fact, we’ve thought of a better way than the lesson,” Miss Selina said. “Mr. Bannister is going with you; but he must eat first, mustn’t he?”
It took a moment for Roy to appreciate this, but when he did he was the happiest boy in Dormstaple.
He never tasted a nicer chicken, he said afterwards.