William Brown was expecting a business letter from Exeter, and, as there was no second postal delivery at Ashleigh during the day, and feeling sure the letter would be at the post office, he had asked Billy to fetch it. The Exeter letter was there, and one, bearing a London postmark, also addressed to "Mr. William Brown." Billy took the two letters straight back to Rowley Cottage, and gave them to his grandfather in the garden.
William Brown read the letter he had expected first, then opened the other, and glanced through it quickly. It seemed to be of a startling nature, for he turned very red and uttered an exclamation of amazement. Then he read the letter a second time, very slowly and carefully, his face exceedingly grave. After that he thought a while.
"Why, Billy," he said at length, "you never told me your mother had an uncle in Scotland."
"I didn't know she had," Billy answered; "that is, I remember her telling me she had an uncle, but she'd lost sight of him and didn't know if he was living or dead. I think she said he was a sea captain."
"Exactly. This letter is from the master of the Institution where you stopped in London. He'd had a letter from a Captain Foster, who says he's your mother's uncle. Captain Foster, who has left the sea and is now living in Glasgow, has only lately learnt of your mother's sad death, and he and his wife, who are a childless couple, are willing to give you a home and do the best they can for you. It's a good offer, Billy, but—well, I don't want to part with you, my boy."
"And I don't want to leave you, Grandfer!" cried Billy. "I—I—oh, it's not to be thought of, is it?"
"I don't know," William Brown said doubtfully; "maybe this Captain Foster can do more for you than I can. Dear me, this is most upsetting! I think I'd better go in and tell Maria, and hear what she has to say."
Left alone, the little boy perched himself on the edge of a wheel-barrow to consider the situation. Would he, indeed, be called upon to leave the home he had learnt to love? The thought that he might be wrung his heart.
"If it rests with Granny I shall have to go," he told himself sadly; "she will be only too glad to get rid of me—she never wanted me here."
His eyes filled with tears as he looked around the garden. How he loved it! What happy days he had spent here with Grandfer and May! He had been looking forward to many more such happy days, but now, perhaps, he would be sent far away. Suddenly he jumped off the wheel-barrow, and hurried towards the house. He would not be kept in suspense; he would find out what was to become of him at once.