Vivian's Lesson

by Elizabeth W. Grierson

‘Yes, Vivian has to go back with father because he was not at church on Sunday, and he saw a man in the garden who may have been one of the thieves. And the police want to hear more about him.’

The words were strictly true, and yet they explained everything so naturally that Vivian wondered how he had ever thought Ronald stupid.

‘Dear, dear,’ said Lucy, looking admiringly at Vivian, ‘so you really saw him, Master Vivian! No wonder you look white and shaken. He might have murdered you, he might, when there was no one about. London must be a dreadful place. I am glad I don’t live there. Have another cup of tea? No? Even if I put two lumps of sugar in it? Well, to be sure, it has taken away your appetite, and little wonder. And you must be ready for the twelve o’clock train too! It is almost time that you were getting up. See, here comes little Miss Dorothy. She shall sit on your bed till I take down the tray and get you some hot water, and then she must come into the nursery while you dress.’

Vivian was not destined, however, to meet his father before he started, or to go to London with the twelve o’clock train. If he had done so things might have fallen out very differently from what they did.

Many a time in the dreary days that followed did Dr Armitage wish with a groan that the miller’s pony had not taken it into its head to run away just on that particular morning. As it was, the pony took fright at an innocent old woman who was walking down the road with a bundle of sticks on her back, and it threw its rider, the miller’s only son, who had his leg broken and his head cut, besides being bruised all over, so that the doctor, who was sent for in hot haste by the boy’s frantic parents, found it absolutely impossible to go to London by the train he had intended travelling by. Indeed, he did not even go home to lunch, but had some bread and cheese in the miller’s kitchen; and then, having set the boy’s leg, and seen him come back to consciousness, he sent a message home by a passing labourer to bid Vivian meet him at the station at three o’clock, and went on to make one or two important visits which needed to be made.

Indeed, in the end, he nearly missed the train, for it had come into the station before he appeared; and Ronald, who had driven down with Vivian to keep up his courage and give him a cheery set-off, was at his wits’ end whether to take his brother’s ticket or not.

‘All right; jump in, Vivi,’ said his father, as he took his handbag from his eldest son.—‘You were a thoughtful boy, Ronald, to bring me this. I forgot all about sleeping things when I sent the message, and we won’t get back to-night now.—Tickets? Oh, I will pay at the other end.—Good-bye, Ronald, you will have a dull evening, I am afraid, my boy.—All right, Timms.’ And then the train moved out of the station, and Ronald made his way slowly back to the carriage, feeling very sorry for his little white-faced brother, and wishing that he could have gone along with him.

Poor Vivian wished the same wish a great many times as the express flew quickly along towards London. He had dreaded being alone with his father, and yet to have been alone with him now would have been a relief, for there were two other gentlemen in the carriage, both of whom knew Dr Armitage, and were eager for any fresh news he could give them respecting the robbery.