What Timmy Did

e his mother's errand, he wandered on, his dog, Flick, at

y, too apt to take every advantage of a certain physical delicacy. This was also the view taken of him by his half-brothers, and by two out of his three step-sisters. But the three who really loved him, his mother, his nurse, and his eldest half-sister, Betty, were convinced that the child was either possessed of a curious, uncanny gi

uld sometimes visualise what was coming to pass, especially if it was of an unpleasant, disturbing nature, was, so his mother considered, an undeniable fact. But sometimes the gift lay in abeyance for weeks, even for months. T

age which was, like many an English village, shaped somewhat like a horseshoe-and then suddenl

elcome visitor to every cottage. Most of the older village men and women had a certain grudging affection for the odd little boy. They were all well aware of, and believed i

hought, he walked deliberately through the gates as if he had some business there, and then he saw that two

s the yard and established himself on the bench and his dog, Flick, jumped up and sat sedately by him. The little boy then took a small black book out of his pocket. The book was called "The Crofton

abruptly stopped talking; but now, seeing that he was reading intently, and apparently quite uninterested in what they were doing, they again began speaking to one anot

m'lad. I speak of folks as I find them. I'm

t be the queer ta

aker's rather sharp younger son, and Mrs.

is eyes seemed glued to the pages of the book he held open, was y

'twas, and some there were who said that 'is widder wasn't exactly sorry. 'E were a melancholy cove for any young

ed up:-"What sort o'

as-did 'e do it o' purpose? Some said yes, and s

was i

gazed at the other eagerly:-

s that being in it. And I was called upon to gi

oor of the house caused him no concern, but he did not want what he said to be overh

ur face that the Colonel, poor chap, 'ad 'ad what they called shell-shock. I'd heard 'im a-talking aloud to 'isself many a

her surprised himself, but his mind had be

ery keen over terriers-we bred 'em. The best of 'em, a grand sire, was the very spit of that little dawg sitting up on that there bench. Colonel bred 'em for profit, not pleasure. Mrs. Crofton, she 'ated 'em, and she lost n

ordantly. "Ho! Ho! She

at once with a touch of

place, too, that's where I'm going to-morrer. I'm 'ere to oblige 'er, that's what I am-just to put you, young

ith a gleam of rather hungry cu

won't be a widder long. Ev

t the little boy sitting on th

for a village club 'e did, but nothing 'as been done about it yet. Some do say old Tosswill's sticking to the cash-a gent as what they calls tr

t Fildy Fe Manor. The Major, 'e bought one of our dawgs, and I sent it off for 'im to Old Place, Beechfield, damn me if I don't remember it now-name of Tosswill too." He stopped short, and then, as if he had thought better of what he was

oung woman opened the door which gave on to the stable-ya

they were holding, and going

ords:-"She's a peach-thinks herse

idy, stable-yard. Then he got up, shut his book, and put it sedately into his pocket. Flic

flat, white stones, kicking a pebble as he went. At last, when he got close

ome from the architect! And then that extraordinary disconcerting hint about his godfather? Godfrey Radmore belonged in Timmy's imagination, first to himself, secondly to his parents, and then, in a much less close way, to the rest of

e he saw his mother kneeling on her gardening mat. He stepped up on to the

heerfully. "What have you been d

ding in the stable-yar

e words very kindly. Then suddenly the mention of The Trellis House reminded her of Godfrey Radmore. "I've

avely and said:-"I

s she so often was with

you do," she

tated a moment-"Major

ick Scotch mind fastened on the one unfam

don't know," he muttered unwillingl

soldier. But he is

time?" asked T

suppos

ordinary human agency that Godfrey Radmore was coming to Beechfield. Though a devoted, she was not a blind mother, and she was disagreeably aware that her little son nev

in took her aback by suddenly saying:-"I don't think

Mrs. Crofton, and

not,

of feeling that

all try and like her. Besides, my boy, she's in great

rry when their husband

heard him say as if to himself: "Some people are glad. Mrs. George Pot

harply, "that you would not listen

if it's

even if i

usband's six children had been a sad, subdued, nursery-brought-up group, infinitely pathetic to her warm Scotch heart. At once she had instituted, rath

oom door instead of going on to the dining-room. "Tell Betty,

al thing for her to do, but she felt tired, and painfully excited at the thought of Godfrey Radmore's coming visit. And a

what her predecessor had really been like. Her husband's elder children were

brother, George. The two had been alike in many ways, though Betty was very feminine and George essentially mascu

y an action which in any other campaign would have given him the Victoria Cross. As for Betty, she had shown herself extraordinarily brave

ll and exciting life, to take up the dull, everyday routine existence at Old Place where, what with a bad investment, hi

a brilliant debater and as a sound speaker at the Oxford Union. There need be no trouble as to Jack Tosswill's future-he was going to the Bar, and there was little doubt that he would succeed there. One of his idiosyncrasi

her father, who did not concern himself with such mundane things, secretly hoped that she would marry a young parson who had lately "made friends with her." As is often the case

ly, she had already had three or four love affairs, and when only sixteen, had been the heroine of a painful scrape-the sort of scr

ad disappeared for two terrible long days and nights, and even now, when anything recalled the episode to her step-mother or to Betty, they would shudder with an awful inward tremor, recollecting what they had both gone through. That she had come back as silly and innocent a

ion with his wife, her father had at last told her that if she were of the same o

baby when Janet had married that sometimes she almost felt as if he were her own child and that though Tom's relation to her own son was peculiar. Theoretically the two boys ought to have been pals, or at any rate good friends. But in practice they were l