Chapter VII

A PLACE FOR MILES. MRS. MURCHISON'S STORY—(continued).

IT must have been one day not much later that Mr. Kingscote came in, as he often did come in, and sat down for a chat. He was rather a short gentleman, not quite so tall as his wife, and thin, and very quiet. And though he wasn't like Master Bertram in face, he'd got a way of laughing like Master Bertram.

"I don't want to see your husband yet," said he, "I want a few words with you first." And then he asked the very question Jervis had asked,—"What was I thinking of doing?"

"For I suppose it is time we should face matters," said he. "Don't you think so, Mrs. Murchison? We can't expect to see your husband a great deal better at present, I'm afraid."

I know I got very red and flustered, and felt ashamed; for it seemed to me he thought I'd been taking his help too easy, and going on too long without talking of a change. And I tried to say so, and couldn't get out the words, for I was near crying. And when I looked up, his eyes had the funniest look—like Master Bertram in a mischievous mood.

"Now what does all this mean?" said he.

"I thought," said I—and the tears began to come again—"I—"

"Oh yes, you thought," said Mr. Kingscote, smiling. "You thought what?"

"I thought, perhaps, I'd let you help me too long. But, indeed, sir—"

"Quite a mistake," said he. "Three months was the time I named for paying part of your rent, and it isn't three months yet. I would be glad to make it six," said he, "but I must think of others who need help, for I haven't a very deep purse. And perhaps it would not be quite right for yourselves. There's plenty of time, and you needn't think I'm going to throw you overboard," said he. "But it's best we should come to some conclusion, eh?"

I said "Yes;" and I tried to look cheerful.

"That's right," said he. And then he told me—what was news to me—that Mrs. Coles didn't want to go on living in this little house. A nephew of hers had come home unexpected from abroad, and he wanted to have her to live with him, and Mrs. Coles was minded to go. She didn't like to part from Mr. and Mrs. Kingscote, but the nephew was a favourite nephew, and her own flesh and blood, and he'd had a lot of trouble, and wanted her. So when she'd talked things over with Mr. Kingscote, she took his advice, and settled to go.

Then the question was, Would we like to stay on in the little house and do as she'd meant to do? The rent was more than we should have to give for a cottage further inland, but then we could let well in the summer months, and make more than enough to pay our whole year's rent. I knew this, because again and again people had come to ask, and if we hadn't been there Mrs. Coles would have let the rooms easily. And if I made people comfortable, and the house got a good name, why, we might be full pretty near all the year round, except just in the depth of winter.

Of course it would mean a lot of work, and I had my husband to see to. But then I never was one to mind work, and Louey would soon be able to give me ever so much help. Even Rosie, though she was only nine, could dust a room as nice as possible, and answer the bell, and wash up, when she wasn't at school.

Mr. Kingscote put the matter before me, and said he'd like me to think it over. He didn't want me to settle in a hurry, and he didn't want to decide for me, but he did think it sounded a hopeful plan.

"And you may be sure, Mrs. Murchison," said he, "well do our best to find you lodgers."

I was sure of that, and in my heart I'd no doubt the thing was to be, though I only thanked him, and said I'd see what Jervis thought.

"And now there's something else," said he. "I'm rather thinking of dismissing Miles, and getting another boy in his place."

Well, that did startle me; and if it hadn't been for Mr. Kingscote looking funny, I should have been in a fright. But I saw he meant something or other that wasn't bad, and I said, "Yes, sir;" not a word more.

"You don't mind that, do you?" said he.

I didn't know what to say, except that I couldn't think Miles had done anything so very wrong; and I didn't see how we were to get on without his earnings.

"No; that's the thing,—just what I told Mr. Laurence," said he.

Then he asked me if I had ever seen Mr. Laurence, and I couldn't say I had not. Miles had told me of the old gentleman who was often in at the Rectory, and who seemed so fond of Master Bertram—as who wasn't?—and he had pointed him out to me in Church. And though I said, "Sh-sh," and told the boy after I did dislike to have people whispering and looking about in Church, when they'd ought to be occupied with better things, still I couldn't help seeing Mr. Laurence, for he was just in front of me, and uncommon-looking, and I'd noticed him before, not knowing his name. And I felt an interest in seeing him too, because he'd been kind to my Miles, and had asked him a lot of questions, and told him things he wanted to know. He lived in a biggish house, all alone; and he had a beautiful garden, and he was very clever, and he wrote learned books, and he had telescopes and microscopes, and all sorts of wonderful things.

"Yes, sir; I've seen him," said I.

Then Mr. Kingscote told me that Mr. Laurence had taken quite a fancy to my Miles. "He is struck with the boy's intelligence, and with his nice modest manners," Mr. Kingscote said, and anybody can guess how pleased I was. "He has been looking out for some time for a boy, to be trained as his helper,—a really careful trustworthy lad,—and he thinks Miles might be the very boy."

I asked what sort of work it would be, and Mr. Kingscote said he could hardly tell. It would mean the cleaning and handling of instruments and telescopes, needing a lot of care, and helping in some sorts of experiments, and having to do with books, and any sort of thing that was wanted. If the boy worked well, he might rise to a trusted position, and be of great value to Mr. Laurence. Everything would depend on how he took to the work. Mr. Laurence was getting elderly; and he wanted some young fellow to be a help to him when old age should come.

He had talked this all over with Mr. Kingscote; and Mr. Kingscote had told him how quick and clever and attentive Miles was. He told him, too, how much we depended on the boy's earnings: so Mr. Laurence had offered to give the same for the first year, and to raise the sum at the year's end, if Miles did well.

"I cannot think you would be wise to refuse," Mr. Kingscote said. "Mr. Laurence is in a position to help your boy on, and he likes him. Partly, no doubt for Miles' own sake; partly for his courage in saving my son from injury. Mr. Laurence is godfather to Master Bertram, as perhaps you know. It is quite a different line of life from your husband's, but I imagine that it is one for which Miles is well adapted. However, you must consider the matter, and let me know your decision."

It didn't take a great deal of considering after all, and Miles was wild to go. "Mother, I'll be able to learn everything there," he cried. And I wondered where he got his love of learning from: for Jervis, though a first-rate workman, was no such great scholar. But then, to be sure, I always did love books, and wish I'd more time for them.