“You must see amazing changes at Old Place,” she said musingly.  “The rest of Beechfield has altered comparatively little, but Old Place is very different, with George gone, and all those young people who were children when you went away, grown up.  As for Timmy, he was little more than a baby ten years ago.”

“Timmy is my godson,” said Radmore quickly.  Her allusion to George had cut him.

Miss Pendarth turned on him rather sharply.  “Of course I know that!  I remember his christening as if it was yesterday.  It must be twelve or thirteen years ago.  I can see you and Betty standing by the font—­” and then she stopped abruptly, while Radmore blushed hotly under his tan.

He said hastily:  “Timmy’s a dear little chap, but I confess I can’t make him out sometimes.”

Miss Pendarth turned and looked at him.  She knew everything there was to know about Timmy Tosswill.  His mother had early confided in her, and she never spoke of the child to other people.  Like so many gossips, when really trusted with a secret, Miss Pendarth could keep a confidence—­none better.

But she felt that Godfrey Radmore was entitled to know the little she could tell him, so “Timmy is a very queer child,” she said slowly, “but I can’t help thinking, Mr. Radmore—­”

“Do call me Godfrey,” he exclaimed, and at once she went on: 

“Well, Godfrey, I think a certain amount of his oddity is owing to the fact that he’s never been to school or mixed with other boys.  I’m told he’s a good scholar, but he’s a shocking speller!  Where’s the good of knowing Latin and Greek if you can’t spell such a simple word as chocolate—­he spells it ‘chockolit.’  Still, I’m bound to admit the child sees and foresees more than most human beings are allowed to see and foresee.”

And then, as Radmore remained silent, she went on:  “Do you yourself believe in all that sort of thing, Godfrey—­I mean second sight, and so on?”

Radmore answered frankly:  “Yes, I think I do.  I didn’t before the War—­I never gave any thought to any of these subjects.  But during the War things happened to me and to some of my chums which made me believe, in a way I never had believed till then, in the reality of another state of being—­I mean a world quite near to this world, one full of spirits, good and evil, who exercise a certain influence on the living.”

They had come to a circular stone seat which was much older even than this old garden, and Miss Pendarth motioned her visitor to sit down.

“It isn’t a new thing with Timmy,” she said.  “As a matter of fact, even before you left Beechfield, Dr. O’Farrell regarded the child as being in some way abnormal.”

“D’you mean while he was still a baby?” asked Radmore.

“Well, when he had just emerged from babyhood.  But I doubt if anyone knew it but Timmy’s parents, the doctor, myself, and yes, I mustn’t forget Nanna.  He was a very extraordinary little child.  He spoke so very early, you know.”