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Robby thanked Norman, and again told him how glad he was that he had got well, and that he would like to be his friend, and help him, and fight for him if needs be, more than anything else. The children spent a very happy morning, and the drive did Norman much good. Captain and Mrs Vallery were most anxious to show their gratitude to old Alec and his grandson.
She showed a small vial half filled with medicine in the pocket of her white apron. "His baby, little Robby, was taken sick a few days ago. I sat up there part of last night. They have no paragoric and I am taking some over." "So that's where you were; I wondered when I didn't see you at supper," Mostyn said, turning with her toward the gate. "I'll go with you if you don't mind."
"Thank you, young lady, thank you," exclaimed Robby, receiving them with delight, as Fanny took them out of the carriage, while Norman stood by, feeling somewhat jealous that the little beggar boy, as he chose to think Robby, should have so many things given him. "Is your grandfather at home?" asked Fanny.
As they approached the cottage they saw Robby, who had heard their voices coming out to meet them. Poor little fellow, as he did not expect visitors, and the weather was hot, he had very few clothes on, but he did not think about that. Fanny, stopping, made Norman get out of the carriage that she might take out the things which were placed under the seat.
"I tumbled down in the mud and dirtied my clothes, so I wanted to clean them," answered Norman, and he said no more. "That was awkward of you, but as they appear dry, you might have come in to see us all as soon as you returned," observed Mrs Vallery; "how did you manage to tumble down?" "That stupid little brat Robby ran after me, and Fanny would not come home.
Don't be cross, child; I'll go in a minute," said Nan, who considered five-year-old Robby a mere infant compared to herself. So little Rob sat looking anxiously about him, and waiting patiently, for, spite of some misgivings, he felt great confidence in Nan.
"First thing I knew," broke in Joyce, "Robby Moore gave an outlandish war-whoop right in my ear, that nearly deafened me, and grabbed me by my hair, yelling he was going to tomahawk me. And I saw Eugenia go sailing up the road as fast as her horse could carry her, with Keith after her, swinging on to those two long black braids of hers. You see Lloyd had the advantage of us with her short hair.
Upon seeing us he at once stopped, spoke to each of us, and took my sister, then about ten years of age, upon his horse before him, and rode with us for two miles, telling her, I remember, of his boy Robby, who had a pony, and who should be her sweetheart.
And that red-haired burly sage, he who used to bake the bran muffins in the little lunchroom near by, and who lent us his Robby Burns one night what has become of him? So she teases us, so she allures.
She had seen an overworked, underfed man, who nagged like any woman, and made slaves of two weak, adoring ladies; and she very well knew that, as often as her thoughts in future alighted on Mr. Robby, she would think of him pinching and screwing, with a hawk-like eye on a shadowy bishopric. Of her warm feelings for him, genuine or imaginary, not a speck remained.
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