With an inward delight which she felt was foolish, yet which she could not suppress, Miss Letty straightway wrote an answer to this, saying that she would be very pleased indeed to see Boy to luncheon on the Wednesday named; and having despatched this missive, she called Violet and told her of the expected visit of the child, now grown to a young stripling, whom she had loved so fondly. Violet listened with attentive sympathy.
“He was such a dear, pretty little fellow!” said Miss Letty affectionately. “He had such droll ways, and was altogether so quaint and lovable!”
“And how old is he now?” asked Violet.
“He is sixteen,—yes—of course he must be getting on for seventeen!” said Miss Letty almost wonderingly. “Dear me! How the time flies!”
“Just a year younger than I am!” said Violet.
“Yes. But you are quite a woman—thinking of getting married too! Well, well!”—and Miss Letty heaved a little sigh of resignation. “However, young women grow older much more quickly than young men, and I daresay Boy is quite a boy still!”
“I hope he is,—for your sake, my own Miss Letty!” said Violet tenderly—“I shouldn’t like you to be disappointed in him!”
Miss Letty looked thoughtful.
“Of course he will be changed,” she said—“very much changed! He was changed even when he came to stay with me in Scotland, and he was not quite ten then. He seemed to me much sadder and older than a child of his years ought to have been. But he has had a long time of study at a very excellent military college somewhere down in the country, and I daresay that the training there has made quite a man of him. Poor Boy! Margaret will tell you all about him if you ask her.”