"Your father had a half-brother named Joseph," she said; "his mother was a Frenchwoman, and when she died her little boy was sent by your grandfather to stay with her relations in France."
"But why has father never mentioned him?" I asked.
"There was some unhappiness about him, dear, and you know your father never speaks about anything like that. He bears it all, and says nothing. Take care, Edric! what are you going to do?"
"Take hold of me, mother."
Slowly and carefully I drew my legs round, and then, leaning on her arm, with Rupert on the other side of me I put them to the ground. Of course, it was but a poor attempt at walking, but still, it was an attempt, and mother seemed utterly amazed. Nothing ever happens just as one has expected and planned it; I had so often gone through that little scene in my mind, and yet I had not the least intention of acting it that day.
"Well done, my darling, well done! How came you to think of trying that? Why, you will walk as well as I do some day."
"It is all Kathleen's doing," I said, still standing propped up by their arms, and wondering at the peculiar feeling in my feet. "She had seen a child cured in Australia by doing a few exercises daily. She had watched very carefully, and was sure she could do me good if I would only persevere. So she has made me do them twice every day, for half an hour, for five weeks."
"But that was what the doctor ordered for you, darling; and you cried and said the woman hurt you, so we had to leave it off."
"I know, mother," I said, colouring, for I was ashamed of myself now; "but in those days I did not really feel as if I cared to move about. I would rather not walk at all than be hurt as that woman hurt me. Now, Kathleen is different; she has not hurt me once, and yet she would not let me off a minute before the half-hour."
"Mary! Mary!" said father's voice, "I want you for a moment." He pushed the door open and stood transfixed.