'You and Michael are great friends, are you not, Kester?'
'Oh yes!' But though Kester turned on her a beaming look of assent, he
said no more. He had a boy's dislike to speak of his feelings; and
Audrey respected this shy reticence, for she asked no further questions.
But she knew Kester almost worshipped Michael, that a word from him
influenced him more than a dozen words from any other person; even
Cyril's opinion must defer to this new friend. For was not Captain
Burnett a hero? did he not wear the Victoria Cross? and were not those
scars the remains of glorious wounds, when he shed his blood freely for
those poor sick soldiers? And this hero, this king of men, this grave,
clear-eyed soldier, had thrown the aegis of his protection round
him--Kester--had stooped to teach and befriend him! No wonder Kester
prayed 'God bless him!' every night in his brief boyish prayers; that he
grew to track his footsteps much as Booty did, and to read him--as
Audrey failed to do--by the light of his honest, youthful love.
For Kester's hero was Kester's friend; and in time friends grow to
understand each other.
CHAPTER XIX
YELLOW STOCKINGS ON THE TAPIS
'We school our manners, act our parts,
But He who sees us through and through
Knows that the bent of both our hearts
Was to be gentle, tranquil, true.'
MATTHEW ARNOLD.
Audrey had not forgotten Mollie all this time. She kept her promise, and
wrote to her frequently; and she had long letters from her in return.
Mollie's girlish effusions were very innocent and loving. One day
Michael asked to read one of them. He smiled as he handed it back.
'She is a dear little girl!' he said heartily; 'I do not wonder that you
are so fond of her. She is only an undeveloped child now, but there is
plenty of good raw material. Mollie will make a fine large-hearted woman
one day--like someone else I know,' he finished to himself. 'If I do not
mistake, Mollie is cut after Audrey's pattern.'
Now and then Mrs. Blake wrote also. Her letters were airy and
picturesque, like her talk. Audrey would read them aloud to her mother
and Michael.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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