Harry’s troubles were all over from that time. He had thenceforth to recover under his aunt’s motherly care, while talking endlessly over the home that she loved almost as well as he did. He was well more quickly than she had ventured to hope, and nothing could check his impatience to reach his home, not even the hopes of having his aunt for a companion. The very happiness he enjoyed with her only made him long the more ardently to be with his own family; and he had taken his leave of her, and of his dear David, and sailed by the first packet leaving Auckland.
“I never knew what the old Great Bear was to me till I saw him again!” said Harry.
It was late when the elders had finished all that was to be heard at present, and the clock reminded them that they must part.
“And you go to-morrow?” sighed Margaret.
“I must. Jennings has to go on to Portsmouth, and see after his son.”
“Oh, let me see Jennings!” exclaimed Margaret. “May I not, papa?”
Richard, who had been making friends with Jennings, whenever he had not been needed by his sisters that afternoon, went to fetch him from the kitchen, where all the servants, and all their particular friends, were listening to the yarn that made them hold their heads higher, as belonging to Master Harry.
Harry stepped forward, met Jennings, and said, aside, “My sister, Jennings; my sister that you have heard of.”
Dr. May had already seen the sailor, but he could not help addressing him again. “Come in; come in, and see my boy among us all. Without you, we never should have had him.”
“Make him come to me,” said Margaret breathlessly, as the embarrassed sailor stood, sleeking down his hair; and, when he had advanced to her couch, she looked up in his face, and put her hand into his great brown one.