‘Perhaps he’ll be one of my men some day,’ whispered Micky, who had every intention of ending his life as an Admiral.
Picture followed picture, showing tragic scenes of child life in darkest London, varied from time to time by groups of prosperous children whom the Society had adopted. On the whole it was much like other lectures of its kind, but the Bolton children, who had been at nothing of the sort before, listened and gazed entranced, and felt very regretful when it was over, and a final hymn and a collection brought the proceedings to a close.
Mrs. Robinson, the Vicar’s wife, hurried forward to speak to Aunt Grace as soon as the lights were turned up and people were beginning to disperse.
‘You’ll come to supper with us to-morrow, won’t you?’ she said; ‘I know my brother is much looking forward to meeting you again.’
A pretty rosy colour came into Aunt Grace’s cheeks. ‘Thank you; I shall be delighted to come,’ she said, and she looked as though she meant it.
The Lecturer himself came up to them the next moment, and greeted Aunt Grace as a friend.
‘You’ll let me see you home?’ he asked, eagerly; ‘that lane is so long and dark—I know it of old.’
‘Thank you; but, you see, I have a very sufficient bodyguard in two nieces and a nephew,’ said Aunt Grace, laughing, ‘and I hear Mrs. Robinson just inviting the churchwarden and his wife to go home with her for the express purpose of meeting you, so I’m afraid it wouldn’t do to take you away from them.’
‘Well, I shall come to-morrow, then,’ said Mr. Faulkner. ‘I want to be introduced to your bodyguard’; and he gave the children a mischievous look that made him appear more like a schoolboy than ever.