Page:Once a Week Volume 8.djvu/656

 648 the advantage of some better masters than Oldcourt afforded. At the end of that time she returned to her favourite cottage, and the pony, fishing, and boating were transferred to Harry, who was delighted with everything after the confinement of London. A grave, quiet man was Michael Lee now: it was strange a child like Harry should be so devoted to him, yet so it was. Harry was his constant companion through his woods, marking the trees, carrying his fishing basket, perfectly satisfied in his own mind he was of great use and assistance to Mr. Lee, whom he very soon learnt to call Michael; and the grave, quiet man grew very fond of the boy, partly on his own account, for all loved Harry, and partly, ere many months were over, for the sake of his sister: and so at last he spoke to Mrs. Parker. Katherine refused him, and he went abroad. Harry begged to write to him, and Michael Lee answered his letters, which contained a great deal of news of various kinds: such as the ewe with the black mark on her leg had three lambs again this year, and one was fed with a teapot. There was a blackbird’s nest in one of the red rhododendrons. Frisky was in great beauty, but it was very difficult to catch him now, as he would not come for corn when there was so much grass; he found the best way was to blow a cow’s-horn trumpet behind a bush, for Frisky came to see what the noise was, thinking the hounds were out, Harry believed, and then he was easily taken. A corncrake had her legs mown off, sitting on her nest, by Thomas Smith, when they were mowing the mill meadow, and Harry had taken some of the eggs to see if Katie’s bantum would hatch them, &c., &c. Then came an account of a bad cold he had caught somehow, he could not tell how; boys never can: but he had not been allowed to go out fishing for some time, nor in the boat with George Mitford. George had had a bad finger, but it was better, and he had a new baby, and Venus had puppies. It (the baby) was christened last Sunday; it was a boy, which was much better than a girl, as it might be a keeper too some day, They were all beauties, especially one with a black nose; and had he been to Mount St. Bernard yet?

Harry’s next letter was finished by Mrs. Parker, and she told Mr. Lee the cold had become a cough, and that Dr. Watson thought it would be more prudent for him to winter at the seaside. They were going to Beaumaris the end of September; and when Michael Lee received this letter he felt sure Harry was worse than his mother thought. During that winter at Beaumaris Harry had several letters from Mr. Lee. He thought his hand-writing was changed, or that he was writing larger for him because he was a child; but he could always read Michael’s writing, he said, and was rather affronted. Then he did not hear for a long time, and at last he received a few lines, telling him he had been ill, and that Harry must not think he had forgotten him if he did not hear, for the doctor forbade his writing; it hurt his eyes.

And then came several months, and Harry never heard, and he wanted to know so much how Michael was. His cough had never left him, and they were still at Beaumaris. He used to sit on the beach for hours, or go in a boat when it was fine; sometimes row up past the Menai Bridge to the little fishing island, and land there to see all the sea wonders that are to be found on it; the sea anemones in countless numbers, of every colour, hanging on the rough walls under the long masses of seaweed; the scarlet starfish; the great purple one, and fish, especially the little whitebait, looking like a sheet of silver, as they glided along at low water in the weir. Sometimes they went in the other direction towards Puffin Island, but only on warm, dry days. Mrs. Parker’s sweet face looked very anxious now, and Katherine was more gentle and loving to her little brother far than formerly.

One day, in the middle of September, Harry came sooner from the beach than usual, through the little garden, into the house, and hiding his face on his mother’s knee, he sobbed out, “I’ve seen Michael, and he’s quite blind.”

By degrees he told his tale.

“I was on the beach, mother; I was at that shell-stall; I wanted a Venus’s ear, when all of a sudden I saw Michael come out of the hotel. I was sure it was he, and Simpson—you remember Mr. Simpson, the butler,—with him; and Simpson helped him down the steps, and I could not believe it was Michael hardly, but I left the shells and went to meet him, and when I got nearer I saw it was Michael; so I ran up to him, and his eyes were open; but when I had got hold of his hand he did not look at me, only said, ‘Oh, Harry, my boy, how are you—are you better?’ And I said, ‘My cough is not very bobbish; but oh, Michael, what is Simpson doing walking with you?’ And then he smiled very quietly, and held my hands, and said, ‘Simpson shall go now, and you will take care of a poor blind man.’ And I said, ‘Oh, Michael, you’re not blind; your eyes are quite open, and you must wear spectacles; but I hope you won’t look like old Matthew at home.’ It was very foolish of me, but I did not like to believe it and he shook his head, and drew my hand through his arm, and said, ‘Now we can take a walk near the sea, and talk about it;’ and so we walked a little, and he said he could not write, and he wanted to hear about me, and the doctor said the sea-side would do him good, and so he came here last night. He is at the hotel, the Bulkeley Arms, and he thought I was sure to come on the beach and would see him, and I saw him as he was coming down the steps, so I was not long about that. But he is blind, quite blind, mother, and I am to lead him about: he says he likes to have me better than Simpson, mother. I wanted him to come here now with me, but he did not like to come until I had told you, he said.”

Katherine was sitting by the window. She was looking at the hills on the opposite shore, with all the lights and shadows flitting over them. How beautiful they are! She did not see them; and the sands stretching out so far, looking as if you might walk across into Carnarvonshire; and the green sparkling water so smooth and still. She saw nothing of all this now. She did not say a word whilst Harry was speaking, but she did