‘My name is Laura Dewhirst. By the time you are grown up you will have forgotten it, and I shall be such an old woman that you would not know me if you met me.’
All three laughed, and with another nod to the boys Miss Dewhirst ran after her papa and mamma. The two boys left the church, and the young woman locked the door and contemplated the gratuity she had received with great satisfaction.
‘Where shall we go?’ asked Jerome.
‘To Mr. Philips, to do our Latin.’
‘Oh, Latin!’ sighed the boy. ‘I never used to do any Latin when mamma was alive—before I came to England.’
‘Would you like to go back to Italy?’
‘Not much, because papa always makes me feel such a very little boy. Mr. Philips doesn’t.’
‘Well, come along then! Was not that a beautiful lady?’
‘Very pretty. She liked talking to us.’
‘I liked talking to her,’ said John Leyburn, sedately, as they turned in at the abbey gate, and went up the river walk.