II
Victor Stott did not look at me when I entered his mother's cottage; I saw only the unattractive exterior of him, and I blundered into an air of patronage.
"Is this your boy?" I said, when I had greeted her. "I hear he is a great scholar."
"Yes, sir," replied Ellen Mary quietly. She never boasted to strangers.
"You don't remember me, I suppose?" I went on, foolishly; trying, however, to speak as to an equal. "You were in petticoats the last time I saw you."
The Wonder was standing by the window, his arms hanging loosely at his sides; he looked out aslant up the lane; his profile was turned towards me. He made no answer to my question.
"Oh yes, sir, he remembers," replied Ellen Mary. "He never forgets anything."
I paused, uncomfortably. I was slightly huffed by the boy's silence.
"I have come to spend the summer here," I said at last. "I hope he will come to see me. I have brought a good many books with me; perhaps he might care to read some of them."