BOB WILLS.
"MISS LONG, I want you to give Rupert a holiday, if you please,"
said Mr. Coker one morning a few days later, as the family at Haldon
Hall, having finished breakfast, rose from the table. "I am going to
Westhill, and I should like Rupert to make the acquaintance of Colonel
Wills' little son. I saw him with his uncle yesterday, and asked him to
come and spend Saturday here."
"Oh, father, do let me go to Westhill with you, too!" exclaimed Nellie.
"You know," she added coaxingly, "we're not likely to have this fine
weather long."
Mr. Coker laughed, and, turning to his wife, said:
"What do you say, my dear? Shall all three children have a holiday?
Nellie and Rupert can accompany me to the farm, and you might order the
carriage and go for a drive with Miss Long and Lilian."
Mrs. Coker agreed to this. So an hour later saw Mr. Coker start for
Westhill with his two younger children, who plied him with questions
about the stranger all the way.
"He has come to stay," Mr. Coker told them, "for Farmer Wills is now
his guardian. Poor little orphan! You must be very kind to him. He is
only eight years old, and he has been at a boarding school for two
years."
"At boarding school!" the children echoed in amazement.
"Yes. When his father's regiment was ordered to South Africa, he was
placed in a school, and there he remained till Colonel Wills was
invalided home from the war."
On reaching Westhill, they were informed that the farmer was out, and
that Master Bob was in the orchard. Mr. Coker went into the house to
have a chat with Mrs. Wills, after having suggested that Nellie and
Rupert should find Bob and make themselves known to him, with which
proposition they readily agreed.
Crossing the yard, therefore, the children passed into the orchard
beyond, and looked around in search of Bob. He was not visible,
however, and they were retracing their footsteps when an apple, flung
not over gently hit Rupert on the shoulder; and the next moment there
was a rustling overhead, and a blue-eyed, fair-haired boy dropped from
the lower branch of a tree into the long orchard grass.
"Fancy you not seeing me!" he cried. "And most of the leaves are down
too!"
Then as neither of the others spoke, he continued, laughing merrily:
"That was a good shot of mine, wasn't it?"
"Did you mean to hit me?" Rupert inquired, rubbing his shoulder.
"Rather! Did it hurt you?"
"It did," was the answer, given in a dignified manner.
"Oh, sorry, then! You were looking for someone, weren't you?"
"Yes, for you. We—my sister Nellie and I—have come to see you. Father
says you're going to spend Saturday with us at Haldon Hall."
"Oh, yes! He asked me, and I said I would, I like your father, he's so
jolly."
There was a slight pause. Bob Wills stood with his hands thrust in his
trousers pockets, in an attitude of unstudied carelessness. Though
only the age of Rupert, he had an assured manner, and appeared older
than his years. He had grieved deeply at the loss of his father, and
there was still a very sore spot in this heart; but the kindness of his
aunt and uncle had done much to assuage his sorrow, and already he was
beginning to take an interest in his new surroundings. He was the one
to break the silence.
"I say, how you two stared at me the day I arrived!" he remarked. "Did
you think me a wild animal?"
"No, we knew who you were," Nellie replied, a smile breaking over her
countenance; "we'd just been hearing about you, and—and I'm afraid we
were rather rude, but not so rude as you. I never saw any one make such
faces!"
[Illustration: The next moment ... a fair-haired boy dropped from the
lower branch of a tree.]
Bob laughed, and drew his face into a most hideous grimace. He appeared
quite proud of this capability of distorting his visage, which he
evidently considered a great accomplishment, and explained that he had
learnt it at school.
"You were very young to be sent to school," Nellie remarked; "how did
you like it?"
"Oh, pretty well. I wasn't the youngest there. It was a school for kids
whose mothers and fathers were abroad—in India, and different places.
But I was glad when father came home. He said we should have such good
times together, but—but—" The bright blue eyes grew misty for a moment,
the clear voice choked; then, with a struggle for self-control, he
continued: "Father was wounded, you know, but he was getting better,
only, he caught a cold, and—he died."
"We are so sorry for you," Nellie said gently. "I hope you'll be
friends with us—will you?"
Bob nodded. His heart warmed towards his companions, and he replied
heartily, "Of course we'll be friends. I'm looking forward to Saturday.
Are there only you two? I mean, are you Mr. Coker's only children?"
"Oh, no! There's Lilian," Rupert answered; "she's eleven years old, but
she doesn't go about with Nellie and me much."
"Is she a stuck-up sort of girl, then?" inquired Bob.
"Oh, no, no! You mustn't think that. But she can't do just as we do,
because she is blind."
"Blind!"
"Yes, she has been blind all her life, but you'd never think it to see
her. She's very clever, plays the piano beautifully, and—"
"But isn't she dreadfully unhappy?" Bob interposed. "I should think she
must be."
"Oh, no, indeed!" Rupert assured him. "She's such a merry girl—you
should hear her laugh!"
"But never to be able to see anything or any one! It must be awful. And
you say she has always been blind? Couldn't a doctor make her see?"
"No. Father and mother have taken her to several very clever doctors,
and they all say the same, that she will always be blind," Nellie
replied.
Bob looked inexpressibly shocked. He asked several more questions about
Lilian, and finally said:
"Well, I should think you must always be trying to do things to please
her to make up for her being blind."
His companions greeted this remark in silence, both being conscious
that, on the contrary, it was generally Lilian who tried to please
them. Then, by way of changing the conversation, Rupert spoke of the
preparations which were being made for Christmas, to all of which Bob
listened with great interest, wondering if he would be allowed a sight
of the Christmas tree.
By-and-by Bob suggested that they should go into the house, and have
some lunch; so they left the orchard, strolled through the farm-yard,
and entered the large kitchen with its red-tiled floor. Only Sally was
there, so they made their way to the dairy, where they found Mr. Coker
in conversation with the mistress of the establishment, who was packing
butter and eggs for market.
"Well, young people, have you made friends, eh?" Mr. Coker asked, as
the children entered.
"Yes," assented Bob. "I was in an apple-tree in the orchard, and they
didn't see me at first; but I let them know where I was by shying an
apple at him," he said, indicating Rupert with a nod. "It was a true
shot. You would have laughed to have seen how silly he looked, and how
astonished!"
Rupert coloured and was vexed, for he was unaccustomed to being
ridiculed. He had intended to be very kind to Bob; but, all the same,
he had meant to give him to understand that he did not desire to be on
too familiar terms with him immediately.
The children were regaled with bread and cream by Mrs. Wills. She, good
soul, was delighted that her landlord evinced such interest in her
little nephew, and thought it very kind of him to invite the boy to
Haldon Hall. After her visitors had left, she asked Bob how he liked
his new acquaintances.
"Oh, pretty well, Aunt Mary," he replied carelessly; "the girl seems
rather nice, but I think the boy is a bit of a prig. If he shows any
stuck-up airs to me, I shall soon let him see I won't stand them."
"Bob!" exclaimed Mrs. Wills. "I hope you'll behave well when you go to
Haldon Hall."
"I shall show him he can't have his own way in everything," Bob said,
with a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes. "If he'd been to school as I
have, he'd have been taught that before."