Part 17 (1/2)

The door of his room had blown open, and the window was rattling, and the clothes had slipped off on one side. No wonder he had dreamt he was cold. He covered himself up again and went to sleep.

Mrs. Conyfer was up as usual the next morning. She said she was better, but she limped a little as she walked, and Gratian did not like to see it, though she a.s.sured him it did not hurt her.

”I shall take a rest on Sunday,” she said, ”and then you may tend me a bit, Gratian. He's as handy as a girl,” she added, turning to the farmer with a smile. And Mr. Conyfer patted his son's head.

”That's right,” he said; ”always be good to your mother.”

”Winter is really coming,” thought Gratian, as he ran to school, and he glanced up at the sky wondering if snow were at last on the way.

It held off however for some little time yet.

It was on the third day after this that Gratian on his way home was rather surprised to meet Mr. Cornelius returning as if from the Farm.

The school-children knew that the master had been somewhere, for he had left the school in charge of one or two of the head boys and his sister, who lived with him and taught the girls sewing.

He smiled and nodded at Gratian, but did not speak, and the boy could not help wondering if he had been at Four Winds, and why. And as soon as he got home he ran eagerly in to ask.

”Has the master been here, mother? What did he come for?” he called out.

His father and mother were both together in the kitchen, talking rather earnestly.

His father looked at him as he answered--

”Yes, Gratian,” he said, ”Mr. Cornelius has been here. He had something important to talk to us about. After you have had your tea and done your lessons we will tell you.”

”I haven't any lessons, father,” he replied. ”We had time to do them this afternoon when the master was out.”

So as soon as tea was over he was told what it was.

”Your friends at the Big House,” began the farmer, ”are leaving soon.

They daren't stay once it gets really cold. You'll be sorry to lose them, my boy?”

Gratian felt a lump rise in his throat, but he tried to answer cheerfully.

”Yes, father. They've been so good to me. I knew they'd have to go some time, but I tried not to think of it. The lady has taught me so many things I never knew before. I'll try not to forget them.”

”She has been very good to you, and she wants to be still more. That's what Cornelius came about. I don't want to make you vain, Gratian, but she thinks, and Cornelius thinks--and they should know--that there's the making of something out of the common in you--that, if you are taught and trained the right way, you may come to be something a good bit higher than a plain moorland farmer.”

Gratian listened with wide-opened eyes.

”I know,” he said breathlessly, ”I've felt it sometimes. I don't rightly know what. I'd like to learn--I'd like to----oh, father, I can't say what I mean. It's as if there were so many thoughts in me that I can't say,” and the child leaned his head on his mother's shoulder and burst into tears.

The farmer and his wife looked at each other. They were simple unlettered folk, but for all that there was something in them that ”understood.”

”My boy, my little Gratian,” said the mother, in tones that she but seldom used; ”don't cry, my dear. Listen to father.”

And in a moment or two the child raised his still tearful eyes, and the farmer went on.

”It's just that,” he said. ”It's just because you can't rightly say, that we want you to learn. No one can tell as yet what your talent may be, or if perhaps it is not, so to speak, but an everyday one after all.

If so, no harm will be done; for you will be in wise hands, and you will come home again to Four Winds and follow in your father's and grandfather's steps. But your friends think you should have a better chance of learning and seeing for yourself than I can give you here. And the lady has written to her husband, and he's quite willing, and so it's, so to speak, all settled. You are to go with them when they leave here, Gratian, and for a year or so you are to have lessons at home with the little boy, who isn't yet strong enough to go to school. And by the end of that time it'll be easier to see what you are best fitted for.

You'll have teaching of all kinds--music and drawing, and all sorts of book-learning. It's a handsome offer, there's no denying.”