ay from her.
So he got a job in London. It was quite nice, and he used to come down
once a month or so." He waited a moment, then went on. "Betty always said
he was a born soldier, and that he ought to have been a soldier from the
very beginning. As you care so much," he added a little diffidently, "I
expect Betty would show you the letters his men wrote about him. Dad has
got the letters of his Colonel and of the officers, but Betty has the
others."
And then all at once Radmore felt a small skinny hand slipped into his.
"I want to tell you something," muttered Timmy. "I want to tell you two
things. I want to tell you that I'm sure George is in Heaven. I don't
know if you know, but I sometimes see people who are dead. I saw Pete
Cobbett once. He was standing by the back door of the post-office, and
that old dog of theirs saw him too; it was just before we got the news
that he was killed, so I thought he was back on leave. But I've never
seen George--sometimes I've felt as if he were there, but I've never
_seen_ him."
For a moment Radmore wondered if he had heard the words aright. What
could the child mean? Did Timmy claim the power to see spirits?
"Now I'll tell you the second thing," went on Timmy, his voice dropping
to a whisper. "The last time George was home he came into the night
nursery one night. Nanna was still busy in the kitchen, so I was by
myself. I have a room all to myself now, but I hadn't then. George came
in to say a special good-bye to me--he was going off the next morning
very early, and Betty wanted to be the only one up to see him go; I mean
really early, half past five in the morning. And then--and then--he said
to me: 'You'll look after Betty, Timmy? If anything happens to me you'll
take my place, won't you, old chap? You'll look after Betty all the days
of her life?' I promised I would, and so I will too. But I haven't told
her what George said, and you mustn't tell anybody. I've only told you
because you're my godfather."
CHAPTER IX
Mrs. Crofton was walking restlessly about her new home--the house that
was so new to her, and yet, if local tradition could be trusted, one of
the oldest inhabited dwellings in that part of England.
She had felt so sure that Godfrey Radmore would manage to get away from
Old Place, and call on her this afternoon, for Jack Tosswill had told her
that he was arriving before tea--she felt depressed and disappointed
though she had not yet given up ho
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