Timpey was running by my side, her little hand in mine, and I could not bear to think how dull we should be when she was gone.
'Why, it's surely Mr. Davis,' said my grandfather, as he rose to meet the old gentleman.
'Yes,' said he, 'it is Mr. Davis; and I suppose you can guess what I've come for.'
'Not to take our little sunbeam, sir,' said my grandfather, taking Timpey in his arms. 'You never mean to say you're going to take her away?'
'Wait a bit,' said the old gentleman, sitting down and fumbling in his pocket; 'wait until you've heard this letter, and then see what you think about her going.'
And he began to read as follows:
MY DEAR SIR,—I am almost over
powered with joy by the news received by
telegram an hour ago. We had heard of
the loss of the Victory, and were mourning
for our little darling as being amongst the
number of those drowned. Her mother has
been quite crushed by her loss, and has
been dangerously ill ever since the sad intelligence
reached us.
'Need I tell you what our feelings were
when we suddenly heard that our dear child
was alive, and well and happy!
'We shall sail by the next steamer for
England, to claim our little darling. My
wife is hardly strong enough to travel this
week, or we should come at once. A thousand
thanks to the brave men who saved
our little girl. I shall hope soon to be
able to thank them myself. My heart is
too full to write much to-day.
'Our child was travelling home under the
care of a friend, as we wished her to leave
India before the hot weather set in, and I
was not able to leave for two months. This
accounts for the name Villiers not being on
the list of passengers on board the Victory.
'Thanking you most sincerely for all your
efforts to let us know of our child's safety,
'I remain, yours very truly,
'EDWARD VILLIERS.'
'Now,' said the old gentleman, looking at me, and laughing, though I saw a tear in his eye, 'won't you let them have her?'
'Well, to be sure,' said my grandfather, 'what can one say after that? Poor things, how pleased they are!
'Timpey,' I said, taking the little girl on my knee, 'who do you think is coming to see you? Your mother is coming—- coming to see little Timpey!'
The child looked earnestly at me; she evidently had not quite forgotten the name. She opened her blue eyes wider than usual, and looked very thoughtful for a minute or two. Then she nodded her head very wisely, and said,—