The next morning she wanted to see this beautiful house and garden.  Valentine was showman, and the whole family accompanied her, wandering among the great white pear-trees, and the dark yews, then going into the stable-yard, to see the strange, old out-buildings, with doors of heavy, ancient oak, and then on to the glen.

Valentine did not seem to care about his beautiful house, he rather disparaged it.

“You’re not to say, ‘it’s well enough,’ when it’s beautiful,” observed Anastasia.

Then with what was considered by the elder portion of the party to be a pretty specimen of childish sagacity, Hugh admonished his little sister—­

“But he mustn’t praise his own things; that’s not good manners.  He talks in this way to make us think that he’s not conceited; but he really knows in his heart that they’re very handsome.”

“Is he grander than father, mamma dear?” asked Anastasia.

“I don’t think so, my sweet,” answered Emily laughing.  “I see you are not too grand, Val, to use your father’s old repeater.”

“No,” said Valentine, who had been consulting rather a shabby old watch, and who now excused himself for leaving the party on the ground of an appointment that he had made.  “This, and a likeness of him that I have in the house, are among the things I most value.”

What did the appointment matter to them?

John noticed that he walked as if weary, or reluctant perhaps to leave them.  He was the only person who noticed anything, for you must understand that the place was full of nests.  All sorts of birds built there, even herons; and to stand at the brink of the glen, and actually see them—­look down on to the glossy backs of the brooding mothers, and count the nests—­wealth incalculable of eggs, and that of all sorts,—­to do this, and not to be sure yet whether you shall ever finger them, is a sensation for a boy that, as Mr. Weller said, “is more easier conceived than described.”

And so Valentine went in.  There were two appointments for him to keep, one with his doctor, one with his lawyer.  The first told him he had unduly tired himself, and should lie down.  So lying down, in his grandmother’s favourite sitting-room, he received the second, but could decide on nothing, because he had not yet found opportunity to consult the person principally concerned.

So after the man of law had departed, Valentine continued to lie quietly on the sofa for perhaps an hour; he closed his eyes, and had almost the air of a man who is trying to gather strength for something that he has to do.

Children’s voices roused him at last.  Emily was moving up the garden towards the house, leaning on John’s arm; the two younger children were with them, all the others having dispersed themselves about the place.

Valentine sat up to gaze, and as their faces got nearer a sudden anguish, that was not envy, overcame him.