quite warm, darling?" she said.
"Pairfitly, Mumsey darlin'," was the reply: and then he added, "It'svery nice, isn't it, in this comfable train, and mayn't I dig on thesands when we get there?"
"Soon, dear, I hope," said his mother, "but just at first we must bevery careful, you know, for fear of your catching cold."
"It would have been nice if Lelly or Chrissie could have come too," hewent on. "Chrissie likes digging and makin' sand castles, doesn't she,Mumsey?"
"Yes, I am sure she does. But you see, dear, it's best for you not tobe with your sisters just yet, for fear of their possibly catching thefever, even though it is not very likely."
"I know," said Jasper. "Poor Chrissie--I am so glad she told Auntieabout the prayer-book. I fink she'd never have been kite happy if shehadn't, would she, Mumsey?" and again his mother agreed with him. Andafter a while the excitement and the air began to make the stilldelicate little fellow sleepy. His head began to nod, and MrsFortescue put her arm round him, and it was not till they were justdrawing up at the station that he fairly awoke.
There was a drive of a mile or two to Seabay, and by the time theyreached their destination, Jasper was as lively as ever, pointing outthe places he remembered, the grand hotel they had stayed at the yearbefore, the donkey-boys' stand, and other interesting objects. Nurse'smother's house was a very small one, standing in a row of neat modestlittle dwellings with tiny gardens in front. But to Jasper's happyfeelings it was all perfectly delightful, and indeed, in its humble way,the house was quite comfortable. Nurse's mother had done her utmost--all was exquisitely clean and fresh, and she herself eager to doeverything she possibly could for her guests. For she felt their comingto her a great honour--neither she nor her daughter being the sort ofpeople to think any less highly of "the family" in these days ofadversity.
So Mrs Fortescue was able to send a cheerful letter to both AuntMargaret and to "Daddy"--poor Daddy, so busy at his office that he hadnot even been able to see them off at the station!
And the days passed very peacefully. For the weather on the whole wasfine, and Jasper was able to be out a great deal, though principally ina bath-chair, as his poor little legs were still too weak to allow ofhis walking for more than a very short time.
The bath-chair man was a relation of their landlady; a good careful oldfellow, and more than once, when Mrs Fortescue was very tired--walkingbeside a bath-chair is harder exercise than it looks!--or had manyletters to write, she let Jasper go out alone in his carriage, wellwrapt up and quite content in his human horse's company. Thus ithappened one day when they had been more than a week at Seabay. It wasa very warm afternoon for April, and Mrs Fortescue told old Evans thathe might draw up on the terrace facing the sea, for part of the time,and let Jasper watch the people walking about and the children ondonkeys or digging on the sands, for already, on a very fine day likethis, the regular summer customs were beginning.
The old man did as he was told, and Jasper sat in his nest, warm andcomfortable and perfectly content. Suddenly he heard a small voicebeside him, and glancing round, he saw a very little girl gazing up athim with great interest, not unmingled with awe. She was a prettylittle creature, charmingly dressed in white, looking about four yearsold, and she seemed to be quite alone. It was not in our little boy'snature not to smile at her, and then she took courage.
"Is you hurted your foots?" she said; "can't you walk or 'tand?"
"No," said Jasper, "it's not my feet. I've been ill and my legs getstired if I walk much."
"Poor 'ittle boy!" she said pityingly. "Was it werry sore to be ill?I'd like to kiss you, to make it better?" and she came close to thebath-chair, raising herself on tip-toe with the evident intention ofkissing him. But a sudden remembrance flashed into Jasper's mind.
"No, darlin'," he said in great distress, "no, no. I were forgettin'.You mustn't come near me. You mustn't kiss me. Oh, I can't explain.She wouldn't understand. Is there nobody wif you--not your nurse ornobody?" he cried, on the point of tears by this time.
"Yeth, there's Gran," the baby was beginning, when another voice camefrom behind the chair, the new-comer having approached from that side.
"Why, what's the matter, Lily?" it said; "you've not been teasing thisyoung gentleman, I hope?" for Jasper's distress was too plain to beunnoticed. "She is sometimes a little too _friendly_," he went on,"though she means well, don't you, my pet?"
"Oh no, no, she was sweet and kind," said the boy; "please send herfurzer away and I'll explain," and so he did--most clearly andsensibly--when the grey-haired stranger had called to the nursemaid, whonow made her appearance with a donkey and donkey-boy whom she had beento fetch, and Lily was safely escorted off.
"I was only strolling about with her till the donkey came. She is mygrand-daughter. And it is very good of you, my little fellow, to be sothoughtful, though I shouldn't think there's much risk now. You've beenhere some days, I suppose, and the sea-breezes blow away infectionfinely."
"But he's been pretty ill," he added to himself, "or else he's verydelicate."
"Do you always live in London?" he went on, and feeling interested inthe child, by one or two kindly questions he drew out a good deal of theFortescue family history.
"Fortescue," he repeated, "and `Fareham.' Why, then I'm your father'stenant now! I must see if we haven't some Fareham grapes for you--orI'll tell them to send you some direct. Tell me your whole name, myboy;" and Jasper, well pleased, replied--
"Jasper's my first name. `Jasper Greville Fortescue,' that's it all."
The look of interest deepened on the gentleman's face.
"Jasper," he said musingly; "a very uncommon name, to begin with. ButJasper _Greville_, the two together! It's an extraordinary coincidence,if no more."
"Greville," said Jasper, "Greville was Mumsey's name 'afore she marriedDaddy, and I was called it after _her_ Daddy, you see; and oh, there'sMumsey herself," as he caught sight of his mother coming towards them.
She looked a little surprised at seeing her boy on such friendly termswith a stranger, but a few words explained the whole, after which MrMaynard introduced himself as the present occupier of Fareham. ThenEvans was told to move on again slowly, Mrs Fortescue and Lily'sgrandfather following.
"Mumsey's" heart was soon won by Mr Maynard's praise of Jasper.
"Such a thoughtful little fellow," he said. "When I was his age I amsure it would never have entered my head to warn off any one when I wasrecovering from one of the illnesses so much commoner among children inthose days. But your boy looks delicate--does London suit him? I'mafraid," he went on, hesitating a little, "I'm afraid you must missFareham a great deal. We find it so healthy--Lily is twice the childshe was. She and her mother live with us. My daughter's husband waskilled in the war."
"How very sad!" said Mrs Fortescue gently. Then after a moment's pauseshe went on--"Jasper has never been as strong as my other children, butI don't think it's the fault of London. We have always been there sixor eight months of the year."
"I know what would set him up," Mr Maynard remarked. "A sea voyage! Iam a great believer in sea voyages--had so many of them, you see, forI've spent most of my life in Australia."
"Indeed," said Mrs Fortescue with interest, for this explained theslight touch of abruptness in her new friend's manner, as well as somesmall peculiarities of tone and pronunciation. "I wish we could sendhim--or take him, rather--a voyage, but it is now quite impossible."
"Ah, yes--I suppose so," he replied, but rather absently. Then heturned to her again with a kind of eagerness.
"`Jasper,' your little fellow is called, he told me--`Jasper Greville.'Excuse my asking if they are family names."
"Yes," said Mrs Fortescue, a little surprised, "they were my father's.My name before I married was `Greville.' We wanted to preserve them,for, strangely enough, my family has completely died out."
"I have met `Grevilles,'" said Mr Maynard.
"Oh yes--there are plenty of _Grevilles_, but none
with whom we cantrace any connection. I was an only child, and so was my father. I wasleft an orphan very young and brought up by my mother's people.`Jasper' was the name for the eldest sons in our family for generations,I believe."
"It is a very uncommon name," Mr Maynard said. Then seeing Lily on
Jasper Page 25