It was Fergus, little lame Fergus, mounted on a tiny rough-coated pony, coming towards him!
"Did you know, Master Gratian, that the gentry's come back to the Big House?"
Gratian sat straight up in his astonishment.
"No, Jonas. How did you hear it?"
"Down in the village, quite sudden-like. It was all got ready for them last week, but there's been none of us down there much lately."
Gratian felt too excited to lie still and dream any more.
"I'll ask mother if I may go and see," he said jumping up. And off he ran. But an unexpected sight met him at a stone's throw from the Farm. It was Fergus, little lame Fergus, mounted on a tiny rough-coated pony, coming towards him! And the joy of the meeting who could describe?
"We tried to keep it a secret till it was quite sure," said the boy. "There was some difficulty about it, but it is all settled now. Father has taken the Big House from our cousin, and we are to live at it half the year. We are all there—my sisters—and my big brother comes sometimes—and mother of course. All except Jack. Jack has gone to sea. He was very nice, but he hated lessons—he only wanted to go to sea. So we want you now, Gratian—my own Gratian. I have a tutor, and you are to learn with me all the summer and to go away with us in the winter now your mother is well, so that you will find out what you want to be. It is for me we have come here. I must always be lame, Gratian. The doctors can't cure me," and the bright voice faltered. "But I shall get strong all the same if I live here in this beautiful air. And I shall be very happy, for I can learn to play on the organ—and that makes up for all."
And all came about as Fergus said.