He felt there was a link between him and Mrs. Varcoe, for both of them had suffered through the war. He began to talk to her of his mother, and that led to tears. She did not try to stop him, as Granny would have done, when he began to weep. No! she put her strong arms around him, and hushed him upon her breast. There, by-and-by, he fell asleep.
During the days he was in bed Billy was kept very quiet, but directly he came downstairs again he was allowed to see visitors. The Vicar was the first who called to see him; then each of the members of the Dingle family came at different times, delighted that he was about again. After that little May came every afternoon, and sat beside him on the settle, talking to him about the animals and birds she noticed on her daily journey from the village to Rowley Cottage.
"Get well quickly, Billy," she would say, "then I'll take you to the woods to see the squirrels. Oh, they are the dearest, sweetest things! You'll love them, you will!"
A wonderfully happy time followed. After the heavy rains a spell of dry, clear weather set in. Every day now found Billy either in the garden with his grandfather or roaming about the woods and lanes with May. He never tired of watching the squirrels springing from tree to tree, and he soon grew accustomed to the sounds which at first startled him—the rustle of birds and the scuttle of rabbits in the undergrowth, the discordant cries of cock-pheasants as they rose from the ground and took wing, and the mournful hoot of the owls.
Once, on a misty day, he saw an owl quite close. It was white, save for a few light golden-brown feathers in its wings, and had a round, solemn, baby face.
Then he learnt to ride Jenny, and to drive her in the market cart, too. One never-to-be-forgotten day he drove his grandfather nearly to Exeter. As they neared the city they began to meet other vehicles, and his grandfather changed seats with him and took the reins. He was rather glad of this, not as yet being an experienced driver.
The first stop they made when Exeter was reached was before a large fruit and poultry shop in High Street. Here William Brown unloaded the contents of his cart—a quantity of winter greens and potatoes, and two baskets, one containing dead poultry, the other some golden apples called "Blenheim Oranges," the crop of one of his best apple-trees which had been gathered carefully before the gales, and hoarded. Then they drove to various other shops and did a lot of shopping, for Mrs. Brown had given them a long list of errands to execute; and, later, their purchases having been stored away in the market cart, they drove down a narrow side-street into a yard, where they left Jenny and her load in the care of a stable boy who seemed to know her and smacked her fat sides familiarly.
"Nov for the market!" said William Brown. He dived his hand into his trouser-pocket, and the next minute slipped half-a-crown into his grandson's palm. "A trifle for pocket-money," he explained, with his good-natured smile.
"Oh, grandfather, thank you, thank you!" cried Billy.
He had never had a half-crown in his life before.