His brown eyes were full of tears and the corners of the pretty mouth twitched.
"He's such a child for reading! At it all day long!" explained the servant. "He thinks as much of an old book as some of us would of golden sovereigns. Well, we must be getting on, Eric. I can't stop."
"Look here!" said Dona. "We'll hunt for the book on our way back to Whitecliffe. If we find it we'll meet you here to-day fortnight at the same time and give it to you."
"And suppose you don't find it?" quavered the little boy anxiously.
"I think the fairies will bring it to us somehow. You come here to-day fortnight and see. Cheer oh! Don't cry!"
"He wants his tea," said the servant. "Hold on to those parcels, Eric, or we shall be dropping something else."
The little boy put his arms round several lightly-balanced packages, and tried to wave a good-bye to the girls as his attendant wheeled him away.
"Poor wee chap! I wonder what's the matter with him?" said Elaine, when the long perambulator had turned the corner. "And I wonder where he can possibly be going? There are no houses that way—only a wretched little village with a few cottages."
"I can't place him at all," replied Marjorie. "He's not a poor person's child, and he's not exactly a gentleman's. The carriage was very shabby, with such an old rug; and the girl wasn't tidy enough for a nurse, she looked like a general slavey. Dona, I don't believe you'll find that book."
"I don't suppose I shall," returned Dona; "but I have Grimm's Fairy Tales at home, and I thought I'd write to Mother and ask her to send it to Auntie's for me, then I could take it to him next exeat."