"I"m awfully glad you"re going to stay here," he answered; "and I do want to see your grandmother. I suppose it"ll be all right," he went on, "and that they won"t find Lindsay and me a nuisance in London."
I was almost vexed with him.
"Harry," I said, "don"t _you_ begin to be fanciful. You don"t _know_ how Cousin Cosmo spoke of you the other day."
And after all it did come all right. My story finishes up like a fairy-tale--"They lived happy ever after!"
Well no, not quite that, for it is not yet four years since all this happened, and four years would be a very short "ever after."
But I may certainly say we have lived most happily ever since that time till now.
Cousin Agnes is much, much better. She never will be quite strong--never a very strong person, I mean. But she is _so_ sweet, our boys and I often think we should scarcely like her to be any different in any way from what she is, though of course not really ill or suffering.
And "our boys"--yes, that is what they are--dear brothers to me, just like real ones, and just like grandsons to dear, dear grandmamma. They come to Chichester Square regularly for their holidays--it is their "new home," as it is mine. But we have another home--and it is not much of the holidays except the Christmas ones that we--grandmamma and we three--spend in London.
For Windy Gap is still ours--and Kezia lives there and is always ready to have us--and Cousin Cosmo has built on two or three more rooms, and our summers there are just _perfect_!
The Nestors came back to Moor Court long ago, and I see almost as much of them as in the old days, as they now come to their London house every year for some months, and we go to several cla.s.ses together, though I have a daily governess as well.
Next year Sharley is to "come out." Just fancy! I am sure every one will think her very pretty. But not many can know as well as I do that her face only tells a very small part of her beauty. She is so very, very good.
I daresay you will wonder how Cousin Cosmo--grave, stern Cousin Cosmo--likes it all. His quiet solemn house the home of three adopted children, who are certainly not solemn, and not always "quiet" by any means.
I can only tell you that he said to grandmamma not very long ago, and she told me, and I told Harry--that he had "never been so happy since he was a boy himself," all but a son to her and a brother to "Paul"--that was my father, you know.
THE END