Perhaps he had been more interested in their plans for establishing a Sunday school than he cared to appear. It seemed so, when one day, about a fortnight after his departure, the country carrier brought to Egloshayle House a large square parcel, directed to Miss Beryl Hollys, which had come by rail from London.
In a flutter of curiosity, Beryl cut the string and unfastened the package. As she pushed back the many folds of paper, a pile of bright-covered books came to view. They were well-chosen story books such as all children love. A note from Percy lay above them, in which he explained that as he believed a lending library was considered to be an important addition to a Sunday school, he had sent a few books, which Beryl might devote to the use of her scholars if she thought fit. He could not say that the books were worth reading, as he was not responsible for their selection. His mother, who knew more about such things, had chosen them at his request.
Beryl was highly pleased with this most unexpected gift. The idea of a lending library had not before occurred to her; but she hailed it with delight, and felt very grateful to Percy for at once suggesting it and aiding its accomplishment.
She and Coral were soon at work covering the books in neat brown paper covers, and when they were duly numbered and placed on the shelves in the new schoolroom, with some of the children's own books added to them, they made a good foundation for a school library.
After this, the weeks passed very happily and swiftly for the children at Egloshayle House. With their own lessons to do, and their Sunday scholars to care for, they had no lack of occupation.
To Beryl's joy, her father remained at home from September till Christmas, with the exception of a fortnight, during which he was absent on a yachting trip with a friend. Many friends visited him during the autumn; but when they were gone, and rough gales and icy breezes changed Egloshayle into a bleak and uninviting place, he still found attractions in his home there.
The winter season was always a trying time for the poor Cornish fishermen.
It was often at the risk of their lives that they went out to catch the fish, whose sale brought them but small profit.
This year there was even more distress than usual amongst the Egloshayle villagers.
It was well for them that Mr. Hollys was at home at the time. No story of want which reached his ears failed to stir his compassion. He made Miss Burton his almoner for the needs of his poor neighbours, and she distributed his generous gifts with kindness and discretion. She had become well known to the villagers.