She thought it very possible. There was a rustic seat in one corner of the orchard upon which they sat down, whilst he turned the conversation to the subject of school, and inquired how she had done that morning; whereupon she told him that she was not as far behind other girls of her age in general knowledge as she had feared she would be, which happy state of affairs she put down to her having always assisted Gerald with his home lessons.
"I know I shall like it at school," she said earnestly, "and I mean to learn all I can. Dinah Mickle is such a kind girl; she has introduced me to several of her friends, and she has promised to help me about anything I do not understand."
"That is certainly very kind of her," Mr. Mickle agreed; "a helping hand is of great value sometimes. I am glad you like the Mickle children. Do you know it is settled that Gilbert is to take drawing and painting lessons from your father? Mr. Mickle called here this afternoon, and the matter was arranged. Your father wanted to give Gilbert the lessons, but Mr. Mickle objected to that, and insisted on paying, which, as a business man, I think quite right. So the lad is to come every Saturday afternoon for a couple of hours. Do you favour the idea?"
"Oh yes, Uncle Edward, if you and father do. Oh, don't you think father is ever so much better?"
"Yes, thank God! I have an idea it may turn-out that illness of his was for the best after all. It was a sad disappointment about his picture; but when Providence interposes and prevents our carrying out the work we had intended, I think we may rest assured that there's a wiser hand than ours guiding our affairs. What do you say, my dear?"
"I am sure you are right, Uncle Edward. Mother used to talk to me like that, and say we must have faith in God, even when we can't see the reason for what He does."
"And that happens so often, doesn't it, child? But God's sight is clear where ours is dim; and if He denies us something on which we have set our hearts, often it is to give us a greater blessing still. He knows best, that's certain. 'We walk by faith, and not by sight,' you know."
That night, when Angel pulled up her bedroom blind before getting into bed, she uttered an exclamation of delight. Her room was at the back of the house, overlooking the kitchen garden and orchard. The young May moon had arisen, and by its soft light the little girl could see the shadowy old grey church on the hill, and the stretch of green, flower-decked meadows which lay between it and Haresdown House.
"How lovely! oh, how lovely!" she exclaimed. "And, oh, how beautiful the orchard looks! No wonder uncle loves the place so much."
Her heart was full of affection and gratitude towards Mr. Bailey for his goodness to her and those she loved. That her father fully appreciated his generosity and kindness she well knew, but she was not so sure about Gerald. The latter took everything as a matter of course; indeed, since they had come to Wreyford she had had many occasions to notice her brother's selfishness, and had begun to contrast his behaviour to her to the manner in which the Mickle boys treated their sisters—even with Gilbert it was always "girls first." Then she reproached herself for doubting her brother's affection, and jumped into bed with the determination to worry about him no longer. No doubt he was right when he said boys had more need of money than girls; but, nevertheless, she could not blind herself to the fact that Gerald was acquiring the habit of spending beyond his means. The more money he had, the more money he wanted.