herdonkey coming towards them, he lifted his hat in farewell, just stoppingfor a moment to ask if he might venture to send some grapes to thelittle invalid--"Fareham grapes," with a half-apologetic smile. And ofcourse Mrs Fortescue thanked him, and gave him the address of theirpresent 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 hislittle Lily they saw no more.
"Most likely," said Mrs Fortescue, "they only drove over from Farehamfor the day, to give the child a breath of sea-air. But I am glad tohave seen them. It is pleasant to think that kind, nice people areliving at dear Fareham."
How surprised she would have been if she had known the thoughts in MrMaynard'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 fromold Greville first before speaking of the possibility to them. He maybe 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, andsympathy. Things must have been very hard upon them, I fear."
A week or two more brought the visit to Seabay to a close. Jasper, bythis time, was able to take a fair amount of exercise on his own littlelegs, which were a good deal firmer and stronger than when he firstcame. Mrs Fortescue, too, was feeling rested and refreshed, and shewas delighted to return home and be all together again. For AuntMargaret's letters continued to give very cheering accounts of her twocharges.
"They really are earnestly trying to overcome all the tiresome habitsand thoughtless ways which made us so anxious about them," she wrote,"and this is truly encouraging, as it shows that the impression made onthem has not been a passing one. Of course there are--there must be--fallings back and disappointments sometimes, but even from these theymay learn new experience and strength."
The little house in Spenser Terrace had been thoroughly disinfected andwas looking fresh and bright in the sunshine--for it was a real "Mayday"--the afternoon on which Jasper and his mother returned home. Theboy was in a state of happy excitement, and his cheeks were flushed androsy as the four-wheeler drew up at the door.
"It will be so nice to be wif zem all again," he murmured, adding tohimself, "and I _are_ so glad Chrissie told about that church-book."
Yes--there they were--all at the door to meet the travellers. AuntMargaret, Leila and Christabel, and Roland, just back from his tutor's.
"Darlings," exclaimed their mother, "what a long, long time it seemssince I kissed you all!" and--
"Darlin's," echoed Jasper, "and we've brought some grapes from Fareham.That kind man sent us lots! Didn't he, Mumsey?" and he had quite astory to tell his sisters about "meetin'" the little girl on theseashore, with her grandfather, and how "frightened" he'd been of herkissing him and catching the fever, and all the rest of it.
"He's not looking ill, I don't think," said Christabel when she wasalone with Leila. "His face was quite nice and rosy."
"Just at first," replied Leila. "He was so glad to see us all. But helooked very white after tea, and his cheeks are very thin," and shesighed.
"Well," said Chrissie, with a touch of the sharpness she was trying toovercome, "you needn't be so gloomy about him. _I'm_ going to be gooderto him than I've ever been, and if you are too, he'll just get fat withhappiness."
And so daily life got back into its usual round again. But with--oh,such a difference!
"Everything seems so much nicer at home now," said Christabel one daywith satisfaction. "Of course it may be partly the weather," which_was_ very bright and pleasant during that early summer.
"Yes," said Aunt Margaret, "if you include the invisible `weather' aswell, Chrissie dear, I can quite agree with you," and though Jasperlooked rather puzzled, the little girls "understood."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
FROM ACROSS THE WORLD.
I have reached, I see, the _thirteenth_ chapter of my story! Andthirteen is supposed to be an unlucky number. Nevertheless, I scarcelythink it would be fair to any children who have read to the end ofchapter twelve, to stop short there, even though things are now in amuch happier position in the little house at Spenser Terrace than theywere a few chapters back.
Besides, I really have something more to tell about my small hero andhis family, and though at first it may not sound very cheerful, I think,before we have to say good-bye to each other, you will agree with methat this time the number thirteen does not bring bad luck with it. Sonow I will go on with this family history.
That early summer, even in the rather dull out-skirt, where SpenserTerrace is situated, was really bright and pleasant, and for some weeksafter the return from the seaside no one felt specially anxious aboutJasper, though he certainly did not gain strength very satisfactorily.
"It takes a good while for a rather delicate child to recover thoroughlyfrom such an extremely sharp attack as his was," said the doctor when hecalled one day. "Of course it would have been _better_ to have kept himmuch longer at the seaside or in the country. But no doubt, when theweather becomes hot, you will be planning another change for him. Itwould not do for him to be in London if it grew oppressively warm."
And Mrs Fortescue did not like to say how exceedingly difficult itwould be to manage any change of any kind for any of them! The expensesof the illness and all it brought about had already exhausted the verysmall sum they were able to scrape together, beyond what was actuallynecessary for every-day life, and the prospect of sending Roland toWinton by the autumn was growing sadly uncertain. But to Dr Wilkins,though he was such a very old friend, poor "Mumsey" said nothing.
"It would look," she thought, "as if I was hinting for him to inviteJasper to his own country house--and even if he did so, I could not letthe darling go without a nurse or a maid of some kind, and Mrs Wilkinsis rather too old to be troubled with children. It was most good of herto have Roley, but of course he is able to look after himself."
So indeed--remembering his seven years only--was Jasper; quitewonderfully self-helpful and independent. Or rather he _had_ been sobefore his illness. But of late, more than once, his mother had said tohim, laughingly, that he was "growing into a baby again;" he was soclinging and quiet, though always sweet and unselfish.
"Everything's so tirin', Mumsey darlin'," he said, "and Lelly andChrissie does spoil me so. They'se always fetchin' my fings, and theywon't never let me run messages, scarcely. But please, Mumsey darlin',might I not go out a walk to-day, but just stay here 'aside you?"
And day by day the pitiful little request was repeated, though it _had_to be refused. For even if the small legs ached and the feet draggedalong rather painfully, air, fresh air, he _must_ have, if he was everto get stronger, or even not get worse!
"I wish we had old Evans and his bath-chair here for you," said hismother one day, feeling rather in despair.
"There is a stand of them about a mile off," said Roland.
"I know," replied she, "but the hire is very dear. Nearly as much as ahansom, and they would charge extra to come so far, I suspect," with asigh.
Now and then the little patient cheered up and grew more like his oldactive little self again. Sometimes on a Saturday afternoon his fathertook him an hour or two's drive in a hansom, which nowadays was, ofcourse, a great treat, and brought some colour into his cheeks. But,alas! it soon faded again, and he seemed more tired than usual on Sundaymorning, so that there was no question of church for him, and Jasperliked going to church! Then, as June advanced, there came a spell ofAugust heat, and though it lessened somewhat after a few days, it lefthim whiter and thinner and more exhausted.
"We must do something," thought Aunt Margaret, "or he will be slippingout of our hands altogether," and that afternoon she shut herself intoher own room for some time, to decide what that something must be."Yes," she said to herself, "I must do it, but I will tell the dearlittle girls first. It will do them no harm t
o be consulted," and shequietly called them to come to her.
She was seated at her writing-table, with two or three small, somewhatold-fashioned, jewel cases before her.
"Leila dear, and Chrissie," she said as they came in, looking rathersurprised at her summons, "I am going to confide in you. We are nothappy about Jasper. He is not improving, and he must have country orsea-air if he is ever to grow quite strong."
"I know," said Leila, growing pale. "Chris and I are _very_ miserableabout him, aren't we, Chrissie?--for of course--" but here her voicefailed