“Father, I should like to see it very much indeed,” were the exclamations of the two little boys. “You know I have never seen any acrobatic feats.”
“A long word enough to please you,” said Uncle Reginald. “He deserves something. I’ll take you, master.”
“I should think this was not of the first quality,” said Sir Jasper.
“Never mind. Novelty is the charm that one can have only once in one’s life,” said the General.
“Some of those van fellows are very decent folk,” said Lancelot. “I have seen a great deal of them at Bexley Fair times. You would be astonished to know how grateful they are for a little treatment as if they were not out of humanity’s reach.”
Gillian was trying to make Fergus tell her what his questions had been, and how he had answered them.
“I declare, Gill, you are as bad as some of the boys’ horrid governors. There was one whose father walked him up and down and wouldn’t let him play cricket, and went over all the old questions with him. I should never have got in, if papa hadn’t had more sense than to badger me out of my life.”
At the gate between the copper beeches the Underwoods and Merrifields parted, with an engagement to meet at the circus on the part of the boys and their conductors.
Fergus was greeted with open-mouthed, open-armed delight by all the assembled multitude, very little checked by the presence of Captain Armytage. Only Lady Merrifield did not say much, but there was a dew in her eyes as she held fast the little active fingers, and whispered—
“My good industrious boy.”