“Yes Major” I says, “though he is as popular with the Lodgers as you are yourself and though he is to you and me what only you and me know, still it is in the course of things and Life is made of partings and we must part with our Pet.”

Bold as I spoke, I saw two Majors and half-a-dozen fireplaces, and when the poor Major put one of his neat bright-varnished boots upon the fender and his elbow on his knee and his head upon his hand and rocked himself a little to and fro, I was dreadfully cut up.

“But” says I clearing my throat “you have so well prepared him Major—­he has had such a Tutor in you—­that he will have none of the first drudgery to go through.  And he is so clever besides that he’ll soon make his way to the front rank.”

“He is a boy” says the Major—­having sniffed—­“that has not his like on the face of the earth.”

“True as you say Major, and it is not for us merely for our own sakes to do anything to keep him back from being a credit and an ornament wherever he goes and perhaps even rising to be a great man, is it Major?  He will have all my little savings when my work is done (being all the world to me) and we must try to make him a wise man and a good man, mustn’t we Major?”

“Madam” says the Major rising “Jemmy Jackman is becoming an older file than I was aware of, and you put him to shame.  You are thoroughly right Madam.  You are simply and undeniably right.—­And if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take a walk.”

So the Major being gone out and Jemmy being at home, I got the child into my little room here and I stood him by my chair and I took his mother’s own curls in my hand and I spoke to him loving and serious.  And when I had reminded the darling how that he was now in his tenth year and when I had said to him about his getting on in life pretty much what I had said to the Major I broke to him how that we must have this same parting, and there I was forced to stop for there I saw of a sudden the well-remembered lip with its tremble, and it so brought back that time!  But with the spirit that was in him he controlled it soon and he says gravely nodding through his tears, “I understand Gran—­I know it must be, Gran—­go on Gran, don’t be afraid of me.”  And when I had said all that ever I could think of, he turned his bright steady face to mine and he says just a little broken here and there “You shall see Gran that I can be a man and that I can do anything that is grateful and loving to you—­and if I don’t grow up to be what you would like to have me—­I hope it will be—­because I shall die.”  And with that he sat down by me and I went on to tell him of the school of which I had excellent recommendations and where it was and how many scholars and what games they played as I had heard and what length of holidays, to all of which he listened bright and clear.  And so it came that at last he says “And now dear Gran let me kneel down here where I have been used to say my prayers and let me fold my face for just a minute in your gown and let me cry, for you have been more than father—­more than mother—­more than brothers sisters friends—­to me!” And so he did cry and I too and we were both much the better for it.