‘Who he is, what he is; if he indeed be your spirit, or if you only remind me of him, I suppose I shall never know. At times I think he must have been born with me, and have grown with the growth of my soul. Until I went to school, at any rate, as I have already told you, he was my only playmate. When I was a little boy I used to pretend he was in the garden with me, and I used to look for him here and there, just as if he were hiding from me in some game.... At night, I remember, when I had got into bed I used to wonder where he was just then, and if he would be waiting for me when I woke up in his country. And he always was waiting—standing there patiently, smiling, ready to welcome me.... Now and then I even went to bed earlier than usual, to see if I could by any chance get there before him; but I never could, because, I suppose, he lived there....
‘And last night—I don’t know why—it was just the same. Everything happened as in the old days.... It is rather strange, for of late it had all grown a little dim and far away—faint, unreal even, when I tried to bring it back.... And I remember he took me to the edge of a pool, and when I looked into the water I saw reflected there my own room—a boy lying asleep in the bed—myself——’
He paused, smiling faintly, his whole face filled with the light of his memory. Brocklehurst watched him curiously.
‘Sometimes,’ he went on, ‘sometimes the wind, when it is not too loud, seems to bring back the sound of his voice ... and his voice is just like yours, Harold.... Once, at school, I remember, I was sitting before the fire, half asleep and half awake, when suddenly he seemed to come very close to me, to be in the room, to be leaning over the back of my chair. Then I shut my eyes and I felt his soft hair brush against my cheek—and I waited—and oh, I felt so happy.... All at once the door opened and you came in.... And you leaned over my chair just as he had done, while you talked to me.’
‘You are making me feel very jealous,’ said Brocklehurst with pretended seriousness. ‘I expect you like him much better than you like me!’
‘There is no difference ... except——’ He stopped short while Brocklehurst began to laugh.
‘Well, what were you going to say?’
Graham coloured a little. ‘Let us change places. You can row back.’
Brocklehurst obeyed him, but he still kept his eyes fixed on Graham’s face. ‘What is the difference?’ he persisted. ‘What were you going to tell me?’