A minute or two later Ferdy and Chrissie, still looking out of the window in great anxiety lest Jesse should get tired of waiting and go away before Miss Lilly could stop him, saw their governess hurry up the drive. And Jesse, as he caught sight of her, came forward, a little shy and bashful now, as he tugged at his cap by way of a polite greeting.
Ferdy's face grew rosy with pleasure.
"They're coming in," he said to Dr. Lilly.
"Yes," said the old gentleman. "I will go over to the other side of the room with the newspaper, so that the poor lad won't feel confused by seeing so many people."
But all the same from behind the shelter of his newspaper the old gentleman kept a look-out on the little scene passing before him.
Miss Lilly came in quickly, but Jesse hung back for a moment or two at the door. He was almost dazzled at first by the bright prettiness before him. For he had never seen such a charming room before, and though he would not have understood it if it had been said to him, underneath his rough outside Jesse had one of those natures that are much and quickly alive to beauty of all kinds. And everything that love and good taste could do to make the oriel room a pleasant prison for the little invalid boy, had been done.
It was a very prettily shaped room to begin with, and the creeping plants trained round the window outside were now almost in their full summer richness. Roses peeped in with their soft blushing faces; honeysuckle seemed climbing up by the help of its pink and scarlet fingers; clematis, the dear old "traveller's joy," was there too, though kept in proper restraint. The oriel window looked a perfect bower, for inside, on the little table by Ferdy's couch, were flowers too—one of his own moss-baskets, filled with wild hyacinth, and a beautiful large petalled begonia, one of old Ferguson's special pets, which he had been proud to send in to adorn Master Ferdy's room, and two lovely fairy-like maiden-hair ferns.
And the little group in the window seemed in keeping with the flowers and plants. There was the delicate face of the little invalid, and pretty Christine with her fluffy golden hair, and Miss Lilly, slight and dark-eyed, stooping over them, as she explained to Ferdy that Jesse was longing to see him.
Altogether the poor boy, rude and rough as he was, felt as if he were gazing at some beautiful picture; he would have liked to stand there longer—the feelings that came over him were so new and so fascinating. He did not see old Dr. Lilly behind his newspaper in the farther corner of the room—he felt as if in a dream, and he quite started when Miss Lilly, glancing round, spoke to him by name.
"Come in, Jesse," she said, "I do want Master Ferdy to see—you know what."