“It is a very uncommon name,” Mr Maynard said. Then seeing Lily on her donkey coming towards them, he lifted his hat in farewell, just stopping for a moment to ask if he might venture to send some grapes to the little invalid—“Fareham grapes,” with a half-apologetic smile. And of course Mrs Fortescue thanked him, and gave him the address of their present modest home.
And the next day, and several other times besides, the grapes arrived—and a lovely basket of flowers with them. But of Mr Maynard and his little Lily they saw no more.
“Most likely,” said Mrs Fortescue, “they only drove over from Fareham for the day, to give the child a breath of sea-air. But I am glad to have seen them. It is pleasant to think that kind, nice people are living at dear Fareham.”
How surprised she would have been if she had known the thoughts in Mr Maynard’s mind as he walked away, after his talk with her!
“I will write at once,” he said to himself. “It is better to hear from old Greville first before speaking of the possibility to them. He may be dead—in which case he will have left everything to public object—hospitals and so forth, as he said to me. What a sweet woman she is, and that dear boy! I can write with real interest about them, and sympathy. Things must have been very hard upon them, I fear.”
A week or two more brought the visit to Seabay to a close. Jasper, by this time, was able to take a fair amount of exercise on his own little legs, which were a good deal firmer and stronger than when he first came. Mrs Fortescue, too, was feeling rested and refreshed, and she was delighted to return home and be all together again. For Aunt Margaret’s letters continued to give very cheering accounts of her two charges.
“They really are earnestly trying to overcome all the tiresome habits and thoughtless ways which made us so anxious about them,” she wrote, “and this is truly encouraging, as it shows that the impression made on them has not been a passing one. Of course there are—there must be—fallings back and disappointments sometimes, but even from these they may learn new experience and strength.”
The little house in Spenser Terrace had been thoroughly disinfected and was looking fresh and bright in the sunshine—for it was a real “May day”—the afternoon on which Jasper and his mother returned home. The boy was in a state of happy excitement, and his cheeks were flushed and rosy as the four-wheeler drew up at the door.
“It will be so nice to be wif zem all again,” he murmured, adding to himself, “and I are so glad Chrissie told about that church-book.”
Yes—there they were—all at the door to meet the travellers. Aunt Margaret, Leila and Christabel, and Roland, just back from his tutor’s.