A FRESH BEGINNING.
AFTER this Vivian made rapid progress. Happiness is a great restorer,
and the little boy was very happy in those days.
Dr Armitage had soon to go back to his work; but Vivian’s mother stayed
with him for a whole month, until he was almost quite well and able
to run about the beautiful grounds of the château, and even to go to
Dinard; and when at last she had to go home, and would have taken her
boys with her, the hospitable Vicomte, who was really rather a lonely
man, begged so earnestly that they might both be allowed to remain a
little longer that their father and she agreed to his request, all the
more readily perhaps as the detective’s words had proved true; and
the newspapers in England were full of the romantic story of Vivian’s
reappearance, the capture of the gang of burglars in Paris, and the
recovery of most of the silver which had been stolen from Mr Osbourne’s
house in January.
The thieves had not taken the precaution to melt it down, thinking, no
doubt, that it was safe enough for the present in the thatch of Madame
Genviève’s cowhouse, so Aunt Dora had got most of her forks and spoons
back again without their being any the worse, and Claude, to his great
joy, had his christening-mug to drink out of once more.
Needless to say, every one who read the newspapers, and especially
those who knew the principal actors in the story, were deeply
interested in every detail of it; and, although Dr and Mrs Armitage
would have liked their two boys at home with them once more, they felt
that it was much better that Vivian should remain quietly where he was
not known until the excitement had passed over.
So all through the long summer days he and Ronald remained at the
Château de Choisigny, learning to speak fluent French with the Vicomte,
and boating on the river with Mr Maxwell, who proved himself to be the
most delightful companion, entering into all their plans and interests
as if he had been a boy himself.
At school and college he had been a clever sketcher, and in this time
of enforced idleness he took up the pastime again, and gave lessons to
the boys, Ronald proving an apt pupil; while Vivian could, as he said,
‘at least draw things well enough to let the people at home know what
they were meant for.’
Under his guidance, too, they began a collection of butterflies and one
of wild-flowers, and altogether the time passed so happily that it was
almost with regret that they saw the end of August approaching.
Mr Maxwell was going to take up his work in his new parish in the
beginning of September, and the happy party must then be broken up.
‘Another month, and you will be quite settled down in Cornwall, _mon
ami_,’ said the Vicomte one evening, as they were idly drifting down
the Rance in a little white rowing-boat, ‘and I will be preparing to
set out to visit you and to rub up my English a little.’
‘And we will be home again,’ said Ronald in such a melancholy voice
that every one laughed. ‘Of course,’ he went on apologetically, ‘I
shall be very glad to be back with father and mother and little
Dorothy, especially now that Vivi will be there too; but it has been so
jolly here, and after the holidays it may be rather dull at home, for
the Strangeways are going to school, and we will need to do our lessons
alone.’
‘I thought you never much liked the Strangeways, and didn’t mind their
going away,’ said Vivian.
‘No; I didn’t much care for them as long as I had you; but they were
better than nobody,’ said Ronald candidly. ‘We will be the only boys in
the neighbourhood now, and I don’t think we will go to school till next
year at least. But, anyhow, they will not be gone for a week or two
after we go back, so it won’t be so very quiet just at first, and we
will get used to it after a bit.’
Vivian said nothing, but his face flushed. No one knew how he was
dreading the return home and the shower of questions which he knew
would be poured upon him by Fergus, and Vere, and Charlie. He would
have done anything in the world to have avoided the meeting; but he
knew it was unavoidable, so he was trying to accept it as part of his
punishment, and to face it as bravely as he could.
Perhaps Mr Maxwell read his thoughts, for he laid his hand kindly on
his shoulder.
‘I wonder how you two boys would like to come straight down to
Cornwall with me?’ he said, smiling. ‘I have been thinking lately that
I shall be very lonely after all the companionship which I have had
here.—What say you, Ronald; do you think that we could do Latin and
Greek together, and you could go on with your sketches?’
‘It would be jolly, sir,’ said Ronald; ‘but I am afraid we must go home
now. The holidays are nearly past, and we can’t go everywhere.’
But Vivian saw what Mr Maxwell meant more clearly.
‘I believe you are in earnest, sir, and that you have asked father and
mother to let us go and do lessons with you,’ he cried, clasping his
friend’s hand in his excitement. ‘Oh, I hope they will let us go; you
don’t know how I dread going home.’
‘Gently, gently, old fellow,’ said Mr Maxwell, as he noted Vivian’s
quivering lips. Any sudden excitement was apt to bring on severe
attacks of headache, which still caused anxiety to the little boy’s
friends, for they showed that the bad effects of the long period of
strain which he had passed through were not completely gone. ‘The fact
is, I have arranged matters with your father and mother, and you are
both going to keep me company for the next year or so, and do lessons
with me. And, unless you very much want to go home first, we think it
better that you should go straight to Cornwall with me next week. Do
you like the plan, eh?’
‘I think it splendid, sir,’ said Ronald, feeling all at once that he
was raised to the status of a public school boy; for was not living
and doing lessons with a private tutor quite as good as being at
school? While Vivian only squeezed Mr Maxwell’s hand very tightly,
and whispered so softly that no one else could hear, ‘It is the new
beginning you told me about, isn’t it, sir?’ And although the words
were vague, Mr Maxwell knew what he meant.
‘But had we better not go home for a day or two?’ asked Ronald after
a pause. ‘Will we not be rather in the way when you are settling your
things in the Rectory? You told us that all your things were packed up,
and that you would not have them sent down from London until you were
there to see to them yourself.’
‘Ha, you luxurious fellow!’ laughed Mr Maxwell, ‘so you are afraid that
you will arrive to find nothing but bare boards, and perhaps one plate
and one cup amongst us. Well, for your comfort, I may tell you that the
Rectory is furnished already, and I have only my books and pictures to
arrange, and I shall expect you to help me with those.’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean that,’ said Ronald; ‘for even if the house hadn’t
been furnished, Vivi and I could have roughed it; but I thought perhaps
we might be in the way just at first. You will have such a lot to see
to when there is no lady’—— And here he stopped and grew red, feeling
that it was not very polite to allude to Mr Maxwell’s bachelor ways.
But the clergyman only laughed.
‘So you think that I would need a wife to arrange my belongings, or
a sister, eh, Ronald? Well, I am sorry I have neither; but a very
charming lady has promised to go down and get things ready for us—a
lady and a dear little girl.’
Something in his voice made both boys look up.
‘Do you mean mother and Dorothy?’ they asked in one breath.
Mr Maxwell’s eyes twinkled. ‘Wild horses will not drag any more
particulars out of me,’ he said; ‘only I think that you will find when
you get there that there will be at least sheets on the beds, and
perhaps even a cup of tea waiting for you.’ And with that the boys had
to be content.