"I'm afraid you won't see your mother to-day,dear.She's not well.
She's in bed."
"Why?Is she ill?"
"She's tired after her journey yesterday,I expect."He said no more.
He tried during the whole of that day not to think of his mother,and he found that,for the first time in his life,he could do nothing else but think of her.During the morning he sat very silently over his lessons,did all that he was told,did not once kick Mary under the table,nor ask Miss Jones to sharpen his pencil,nor make faces at Hamlet.Once or twice,in a way that he had,he leaned his head on his hand as though he were an ancient professor with a whole library of great works behind him,and when Miss Jones asked him whether he had a headache he said:"No,thank you,"instead of seizing on the wonderful opportunity of release that such a question offered him.When they all went for a walk in the afternoon,he sprang for a moment into something of his natural vivacity.They came upon a thin,ill-shaven tramp dressed as a sailor,with a patch over one eye,producing terrible discordance from a fiddle.This individual held in one hand a black tin cup,and at his side crouched a mongrel terrier,whose beaten and dishevelled appearance created at once hopes in the breast of the flamboyant Hamlet.This couple were posted just outside Mr.Poole's second-hand bookshop,close to the "2d."box,and for a moment Jeremy was enthralled.He wanted to give the hero his week's penny,and upon finding that his week's penny was not,owing to sweet purchases on the previous day,he began elaborate bargainings with Miss Jones as to the forestalling of future pennies.Meanwhile,Hamlet leapt,with every sign of joyful expectation,upon the pauper dog;the blind sailor began to hit wildly about with his stick,Mr.Poole's "2d."box was upset,and the sailor's black patch fell off,revealing him as the possessor of two beautiful eyes,just like any other gentleman,and a fine,vigorous stock of the best Glebeshire profanities.Mr.Poole,an irascible old man,himself came out,a policeman approached,two old ladies from the Close,well known to Jeremy,were shocked by the tramp,and the Cathedral bell,as though it had just awoken up to its real responsibilities,suddenly began to ring.
All this was,of course,delightful to Jeremy,and offered so many possible veins of interest that he could have stayed there for hours.He wanted very badly to ask the sailor why he covered up a perfectly wholesome eye with a black patch,and he would have liked to see what Hamlet could do in the direction of eating up the scattered remnants of Mr.Poole's "2d."box;but he was dragged away by the agitated hand of Miss Jones,having to console himself finally with a wink from the august policeman,who,known throughout Polchester as Tom Noddy,was a kindly soul and liked gentlemanly little boys,but persecuted the street sort.
For a moment this exciting adventure carried him away,and he even listened for a minute or two to Mary,who,seizing her opportunity,began hurriedly:"Once upon a time there lived a sailor,very thin,and he never washed,and he had a dog and a violin--"But soon he remembered,and sighed and said:"Oh,bother,Mary!"and then walked on by himself.And still,all through that hot afternoon,when even the Rope Walk did not offer any shade,and when the Pol was of so clear a colour that you could see trout and emerald stones and golden sand as under glass,and when Hamlet was compelled to run ahead and find a piece of shade and lie there stretched,panting,with his tongue out,until they came up to him--even all these signs of a true and marvellous summer did not relieve Jeremy of his burden.Something horrible was going to happen.He knew it with such certainty that he wondered how Mary and Helen could be so gaily light-hearted,and despised them for their carelessness.This was connected in some way with the hot weather;he felt as though,were a cold breeze suddenly to come,and rain to fall,he would be happy again.There had been once a boy,older than he,called Jimmy Bain,a fat,plump boy,who had lived next door to the Coles.Whenever he had the opportunity he bullied Jeremy,pinching his arms,putting pins into his legs,and shouting suddenly into his ears.Jeremy,who had feared Johnny Bain,had always "felt"the stout youth's arrival before he appeared.The sky had seemed to darken,the air to thicken,the birds to gather in the "rooky"wood.
He had trembled and shaken,his teeth had chattered and his throat grown dry for no reason at all.As he had once felt about Johnny Bain so now he felt about life in general.Something horrible was going to happen.Something to do with Mother.As he came up the road to their house his heart beat so that he could not hear his own steps.
II
They entered the house,and at once even Mary,preoccupied as she was with her story about the sailor,noticed that something was wrong.
"Rose!Rose!"she called out loudly.
"Hush!"said Miss Jones."You must be quiet,dear.""Why?"said Mary."I want Rose to--"
"Your mother isn't at all well,dear.I--"
And she was interrupted by Rose,who,coming suddenly downstairs,with a face very different from her usual cheerful one,said something to Miss Jones in a low voice.
Miss Jones gave a little cry:"So soon?A girl."And then added:"How is she ?"Then Rose said something more,which the children could not catch,and vanished.
"Very quietly,children,"said Miss Jones,in a voice that trembled;"and you mustn't leave the schoolroom till I tell you.Your mother--"She broke off as though she were afraid of showing emotion.
"What is it?"said Jeremy in a voice that seemed new to them all--older,more resolute,strangely challenging for so small a boy.
"Your mother's very ill,Jeremy,dear.You must be a very good boy,and help your sisters.""Mightn't I go for just a minute?"
"No,certainly not."
They all went upstairs.Then,in the schoolroom,Miss Jones said an amazing thing.She said: