This had been a happy day to several others. Cecil, after ten minutes with his mother, which filled her with hope and thankfulness, had gone to show his sister the charms of the place, and Armine and Babie, on a sheltered seat, were free to pour out their hearts to one another, ranging from the heights of pure childish wisdom to its depths of blissful ignorance and playful folly, as they talked over the past and the future.
Armine knew there was no chance of an immediate and entire recovery for him, and this was a severe stroke to Babie, who was quite unprepared. And, as her face began to draw up with tears near the surface, he hugged her close, and consolingly whispered that now they would be together always, he should not have to go away from his own dear Babie Bunting, and there was a little kissing match, ending by Babie saying, disconsolately, “But you did like Eton so, and you were going to get the Newcastle and the Prince Consort’s prize, and to be in the eleven and all-and you were so sure of a high remove! Oh, dear!” and she let her head drop on his shoulder, and was almost crying again.
“Don’t, don’t, Babie! or you’ll make me as bad again,” said Armine. “It does come over me now and then, and I wish I had never known what it was to be strong and jolly, and to expect to do all sorts of things.”
“I shall always be wishing it,” said Babie.
“No, you are not to cry! You would be more sorry if I was dead, and not here at all, Babie; and you have got to thank God for that.”
“I do-I have! I’ve done it ever since we got Johnny’s dreadful letter. Oh, yes, Armine, I’ll try not to mind, for perhaps if we aren’t thankful, I mayn’t keep you at all,” said poor Babie, with her arms round her treasure. “But are you quite sure, Armine? Couldn’t Dr. Lucas get you quite well? You see this Dr. Medlicott is very young,” added the small maiden sapiently.
“Young doctors are all the go. Dr. Lucas said so when mother wrote to ask if she had better bring me home for advice,” said Armine. “He knows all about Dr. Medlicott, and said he was first-rate, and they’ve been writing to each other about me. The doctor stethoscoped me all over, and then he did a map of my lungs, Cecil said, to send in his letter.”
“Oh!” gasped Babie, “didn’t it frighten you?”
“I wanted to know, for I saw mother was in a way. She did talk and whisk about so fast, and made such a fuss, that I thought I must be much worse than I knew. So I told Dr. Medlicott I wished he would tell me right out if I was going to die, in time to see you, and then I shouldn’t mind. So he said not now, and he thought I should get over it in the end, but that most likely I should have a long time, years perhaps, of being very careful. And when I asked if I should be able to go back to Eton, he said he hardly expected it; and that he believed it was kinder to let me know at once than let me be straining and hoping on.”