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Updated: June 22, 2025
What was death? and what came after? Before another night he himself might know. Lying there in perfect health, it seemed impossible to realize that before another night his life might have ended. He turned his thoughts to Brenlands. Yes; he would like to have said good-bye to Aunt Mabel, and to have had once more the assurance from her own lips that he was still "my own boy Jack!"
God forgive me, I cannot keep awake." Bending close down to catch the words, he could distinguish, even in the darkness, some faint traces of the old familiar smile. "You used to say that I had all the luck but, you remember at Brenlands it was the lead captain that got killed." Jack murmured some reply, he was too worn out and miserable to weep.
He was thinking of the first time he had come to Brenlands at the commencement of the summer holidays, after having been kept back on the breaking-up day as a punishment for sending a pillow through the glass ventilator of the Long Dormitory. "I didn't want to face her then," he said to himself, switching the dust off his trousers with his cane. "And yet, how kind she was!
"I didn't think of meeting you here, Mr. Fenleigh." Jack started and stared at the speaker in silent astonishment. "You remember me, sir? Joe Crouch." "What! Joe Crouch, who used to work at Brenlands?" "Yes, sir; Joe Crouch as stole the pears," answered the soldier, smiling. "I never expected to find you 'listin' in the army, sir. I suppose Miss Fenleigh ain't aware of what you're doin'?"
"Oh, no!" exclaimed the other eagerly. "Promise me you'll never tell any one at Brenlands where I am swear you won't." "Very well, sir," replied Joe Crouch, calmly proceeding to unroll the mattress and make down the bed. "For goodness' sake, drop that sir.
I wish he wouldn't go telling you everything that happens at school." "You were saying a day or so ago," said the girl, slyly, "that you didn't care for anybody, or for what people thought of you." "Yes, I do," answered the ugly duckling; "I care a lot what you folks think of me at Brenlands." "Why?"
His head sank forward on his breast. It was Sunday evening at Brenlands, and Helen was playing the piano. Queen Mab was standing close at his side; and yet, somehow, the whole world lay between them. "You may doubt us, but we have never lost faith in you." He turned to see who spoke, and the figures in his dream vanished, leaving only the echo of their voices in his mind. "......Angels of light!
"It is jolly to be here at Brenlands again," said Jack, as he sat dangling his legs from the kitchen table, and munching one of the sweet pods of the peas which his aunt was shelling. "I've been looking forward to it ever since last summer."
I wouldn't exchange her as a sister for any other girl in the kingdom. Well good-night!" That one evening at Brenlands had done more towards forming a friendship between the two boys than all the ninety odd days which they had already spent in each other's company. The next afternoon, however, they were destined to become still more united; and the manner in which this came about was as follows.
Jack's thoughts wandered back to Brenlands, and he smiled grimly to himself at the recollection of that first camping-out experience, and of Queen Mab's words as she promised them a supply of rugs and cushions, "Perhaps some day you won't be so well off." His mind was still full of his recent discovery.
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