“You must take care of yourself, Austin,” said Aunt Charlotte to him one day.  “I’m afraid you’ve been overtaxing your strength, you know.  You never would remain quiet even on the hottest days, and we’ve had rather a trying summer, you must remember.”

“It’s been a lovely summer,” replied Austin, who was lying down.

“And how are you feeling, my dear?” asked Aunt Charlotte, anxiously.

“Splendid!” he assured her.  “I never felt better in my life.”

“But those little pains you spoke of; that weakness in your back——­”

“Oh, that!” said Austin, slightingly.  “I wasn’t thinking of my body.  What does one’s body matter?  I meant myself.  I’m all right.  I daresay my bones may be doing something silly, but really I’m not responsible for their vagaries, am I now?”

Aunt Charlotte sighed, and dropped the subject for the time being.  But she was not quite easy in her mind.

One day a great joy came to Austin.  He was hobbling about the garden with his aunt, when all of a sudden he saw Roger St Aubyn approaching them across the lawn.  It was with immense pride that he presented his friend to Aunt Charlotte, who, as may be remembered, had been just a little huffy that St Aubyn had never called on her before; but now that he had actually come the small grievance was forgotten in a moment, and she welcomed him with charming cordiality.

“It is all the pleasanter to meet you,” she said, “as I have now an opportunity of thanking you for all your kindness to Austin.  He is never tired of telling me how much he has enjoyed himself with you.”

“The pleasure has been divided; he certainly has given me quite as much as ever I have been fortunate enough to give him,” replied St Aubyn, smiling, “What a very dear old garden you have here; I don’t wonder that he’s so fond of it.  It seems a place one might spend one’s life in without ever growing old.”

“That’s what I mean to do,” said Austin, laughing.

“But yours is magnificent, I’m told,” observed Aunt Charlotte.  “A little place like this is nothing in comparison, of course.  Still, you are right; we are both extremely fond of it, and have spent many happy hours in it during the years that we’ve lived here.”

“And is that Lubin?” asked St Aubyn, noticing the young gardener a little distance off.

“Yes, that’s Lubin,” replied Austin, delighted that St Aubyn should have remembered him.  Then Lubin looked up with a respectful smile, and bashfully touched his cap.  “Lubin’s awfully clever,” he continued, as they sauntered out of hearing, “and so nice every way.  He’s what I call a real gentleman, and knows all sorts of curious things.  It’s perfectly wonderful how much more country people know than townsfolk.  Of course I mean about real things—­nature, and all that—­not silly stuff you find in history-books, which is of no consequence to anybody in the world.”