The children still hesitated.
'We don't like to tell you, sir,' said Rollo frankly. 'You would say it was only fancy, as you did last night, and we know it wasn't fancy.'
'Oh, about the cottage?' said the old doctor coolly. 'You needn't be afraid to tell me about it, fancy or no fancy. Fancy isn't a bad thing sometimes.'
'But it wasn't fancy,' said both together; 'only we don't like to talk about it for fear of vexing our cousin, and we don't like to go back there without leave, and yet we should go back.'
'Why should you?' asked their old friend.
Then Maia explained about the milk, adding, too, the strange things that Nanni had heard in the servants' hall. The old doctor listened attentively. His face looked quite pleased and good-humoured, and yet they saw he was not at all inclined to laugh at them. When they had finished, to the children's surprise he said nothing, but drew out a letter from his pocket.
'Do you know this writing?' he said.
Rollo and Maia exclaimed eagerly, 'Oh, yes; it is our father's. Do you know him? Do you know our father, Mr. Doctor?'
'I have known him,' said the old man, quietly drawing the contents out of the cover, 'I have known him since he was much smaller than either of you is now. It was by my advice he sent you here for a time, and see what he gave me for you.'
He held up as he spoke a small folded paper, which had been inside the other letter. It bore the words: 'For Rollo and Maia—to be given them when you think well.' 'I think well now,' he went on, 'so read what he says, my children.'