CHAPTER XXVIII:  GEORGE AND I SPEND A FEW HOURS TOGETHER AT THE STATUES, AND THEN PART—­I REACH HOME—­POSTSCRIPT

I have said on an earlier page that George gained an immediate ascendancy over me, but ascendancy is not the word—­he took me by storm; how, or why, I neither know nor want to know, but before I had been with him more than a few minutes I felt as though I had known and loved him all my life.  And the dog fawned upon him as though he felt just as I did.

“Come to the statues,” said he, as soon as he had somewhat recovered from the shock of the news I had given him.  “We can sit down there on the very stone on which our father and I sat a year ago.  I have brought a basket, which my mother packed for—­for—­him and me.  Did he talk to you about me?”

“He talked of nothing so much, and he thought of nothing so much.  He had your boots put where he could see them from his bed until he died.”

Then followed the explanation about these boots, of which the reader has already been told.  This made us both laugh, and from that moment we were cheerful.

I say nothing about our enjoyment of the luncheon with which Yram had provided us, and if I were to detail all that I told George about my father, and all the additional information that I got from him—­(many a point did he clear up for me that I had not fully understood)—­I should fill several chapters, whereas I have left myself only one.  Luncheon being over I said—­

“And are you married?”

“Yes” (with a blush), “and are you?”

I could not blush.  Why should I?  And yet young people—­especially the most ingenuous among them—­are apt to flush up on being asked if they are, or are going, to be married.  If I could have blushed, I would.  As it was I could only say that I was engaged and should marry as soon as I got back.

“Then you have come all this way for me, when you were wanting to get married?”

“Of course I have.  My father on his death-bed told me to do so, and to bring you something that I have brought you.”

“What trouble I have given!  How can I thank you?”

“Shake hands with me.”

Whereon he gave my hand a stronger grip than I had quite bargained for.

“And now,” said I, “before I tell you what I have brought, you must promise me to accept it.  Your father said I was not to leave you till you had done so, and I was to say that he sent it with his dying blessing.”

After due demur George gave his promise, and I took him to the place where I had hidden my knapsack.

“I brought it up yesterday,” said I.

“Yesterday? but why?”

“Because yesterday—­was it not?—­was the first of the two days agreed upon between you and our father?”

“No—­surely to-day is the first day—­I was to come XXI. i. 3, which would be your December 9.”