He hurried his things together, and was looking round to see if he could not make his way out of the grounds without pa.s.sing near the house, when a quick pattering sound along the gravel startled him. A little girl was running towards him, flying down the sloping path that led from the terrace she came, her feet scarcely seeming to touch the ground, her fair hair streaming behind.
"Oh!" was Geoff"s first thought, "how like Vicky!"
But it was his first thought only, for almost before he had time to complete it the little girl was beside him--_upon_ him, one might almost say, for her arms were round him, her sweet face, wet with tears of joy, was pressed against his, her dear voice was speaking to him, "Oh, Geoffey, Geoffey! My own Geoffey! It"s I--it"s your Vicky."
Geoff staggered, and almost fell. For a moment or two he felt so giddy and confused he could not speak. But the feeling soon went away, and the words came only too eagerly.
"How is it? Where have you come from? Do you know the new squire? Where is mamma? Why didn"t you write?"
And, laughing and crying, Vicky tried to explain. Did she know the new squire? Could Geoff not guess? Where were they all? Mamma, Elsa, Frances, Great-Uncle Hoot-Toot--where should they be, but in the new squire"s own house? Up there on the terrace--yes, they were all up there; they had sent her to fetch him. And she dragged Geoff up with her, Geoff feeling as if he were in a dream, till he felt his mother"s and sisters" kisses, and heard "the new squire"s" voice sounding rather choky, as he said, "Hoot-toot, hoot-toot! this will never do--never do, Geoff, my boy."
They let Vicky explain it all in her own way. How Great-Uncle Hoot-Toot had come home from India, meaning to take them all to live with him in the old house which had come to be his. How disappointed he had been by Geoff"s selfish, discontented temper, and grumbling, worrying ways, and had been casting about how best to give him a lesson which should last, when Geoff solved the puzzle for him by going off of his own accord.
"And," Vicky went on innocently, "was it not _wonderful_ that you should have come to uncle"s own place, and got work with Mr. Eames, whom he has known so long?" In which Geoff fully agreed; and it was not till many years later that he knew how it had really been--how Mr. Byrne had planned all for his safety and good, with the help of one of the cleverest young detectives in the London police, "Ned Jowett," the innocent countryman whom Geoff had patronized!
The boy told all he had been thinking of doing, his idea of emigrating, his wish to be "independent," and gain his own livelihood. And his mother explained to him what she herself had not thoroughly known till lately--that for many years, ever since her husband"s death, they had owed far more to Great-Uncle Hoot-Toot than they had had any idea of.
"Your father was the son of his dearest friend," she said. "Mr. Byrne has no relations of his own. We were left very poor, but he never let me know it. The lawyers by mistake wrote to _me_ about the loss of money, which uncle had for long known was as good as lost, so that in reality it made little difference. So you see, Geoff, what we owe him--_everything_--and you must be guided by his wishes entirely."
They were kind and good wishes. He did not want Geoff to emigrate, but he sympathized in his love for the country. For two or three years Geoff was sent to a first-rate school, where he got on well, and then to an agricultural college, where he also did so well that before he was twenty he was able to be the squire"s right hand in the management of his large property, and in this way was able to feel that, without sacrificing his independence, he could practically show his grat.i.tude.
They say that some part of the estate will certainly be left to Geoff at Mr. Byrne"s death; but that, it is to be hoped, will not come to pa.s.s for many years yet, for the old gentleman is still very vigorous, and the Hall would certainly not seem itself at all if one did not hear his "Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!" sounding here, there, and everywhere, as he trots busily about.
[Ill.u.s.tration]