Andrew was away in disgrace, and Gaston, though he made a brave show of being well again, was still on crutches, whilst as to Diana, with her white face, and closely-shaven head, she looked like nothing but a thin, pale ghost of the merry “scarlet-runner” of the earlier summer days. If the truth must be told, Di, who had not distinguished herself, especially either by her patience or gentleness during her illness, was never heard again to jeer about “pillow-case saints.”
“Yes, it has all ended very differently from what we thought,” said Faith; “and it seems so odd to think that by this time to-morrow every one of us will be far away from here, even Gaston.”
For to Gaston’s great joy, his favourite uncle was coming the next day to take him back to France, and the others were all leaving for home by the morning train.
To all, the end of their eventful visit to Gaybrook had come.
Of course, Gaston was the hero of the day.
Ever since his accident, the children had vied with each other in making much of him, whilst Jack and Phil had delighted Gaston beyond words, by declaring that there was not a fellow in their school who would have stuck more pluckily to his guns than Gaston had stuck to his bee-hive.
“And you are glad that you have won the golden prize, aren’t you, Gaston; werry glad?” said Marygold,—she had claimed to sit next to him at the feast—“and you will be ever so proud to show it to your uncle.”
“Ah, but,” broke in Hubert, “you don’t know everything yet,” and he and Marygold laughed mysteriously.
For before that day was done, there was another surprise in store for Gaston. Another gift was to crown that proud day.
This was revealed, when, at the end of the banquet, all the boys suddenly disappeared, and all the girls became too excited to be able to answer clearly Gaston’s questions as to the boys’ movements.