“I do not understand what you mean,” she said quietly, “by saying that the child is not fit to associate with my other pupils.  She is singularly gentle and taking in her manner.  She expresses herself better than any child of her own age in Sidmouth, so far as I know.  There are few so neatly and prettily dressed.  What is there to object to?  Her grandfather has been a sergeant in the army.  He bears a good character, and is liked wherever he goes.  I do not consider that James or myself are, in any way, demeaned by sitting down to meals with the child, who, indeed, behaves as prettily and nicely as one could wish; and I certainly do not see that any of my pupils can be injuriously affected by the fact that, for an hour or two in the day, she learns her lessons in the same room with them.  Had I thought that they would be, I should not have received her.  I shall, of course, be sorry if any of my pupils are taken away, but as I have several girls only waiting for vacancies, it would make no difference to me pecuniarily.”

And so it happened that Mrs. Walsham lost none of her pupils, and in a short time the wonder died out.  Indeed, the child herself was so pretty, and taking in her ways, that it was impossible to make any objection to her personally.

Mrs. Walsham had been struck by the self command which she showed at parting with her grandfather.  Her eyes were full of tears, her lip quivered, and she could scarcely speak; but there was no loud wailing, no passionate outburst.  Her grandfather had impressed upon her that the parting was for her own good, and child though she was, she felt how great a sacrifice he was making in parting with her, and although she could not keep the tears from streaming down her cheeks, or silence her sobs as she bade him goodbye, she tried hard to suppress her grief.

The pain of parting was, indeed, fully as great to Sergeant Wilks as to his granddaughter; and it was with a very husky voice that he bade her goodbye, and then, putting her into Mrs. Walsham’s arms, walked hastily away.

Aggie was soon at home.  She and James very quickly became allies, and the boy was ever ready to amuse her, often giving up his own plans to take her for a walk to pick flowers in the hedgerow, or to sail a tiny boat for her in the pools left as the sea retired.  Mrs. Walsham found, to her surprise, that the child gave little trouble.  She was quiet and painstaking during the half hours in the morning and afternoon when she was in the school room, while at mealtimes her prattle and talk amused both mother and son, and altogether she made the house brighter and happier than it was before.

In two months the sergeant came round again.  He did not bring his box with him, having left it at his last halting place; telling James, who happened to meet him as he came into Sidmouth, that he did not mean to bring his show there again.

“It will be better for the child,” he explained.  “She has done with the peep show now, and I do not want her to be any longer associated with it.”