"No; I only saw Venus Anadyomene."

Little Jon reflected; Venus was in his book about the Greeks and

Trojans. Then Anna was her Christian and Dyomene her surname?

But it appeared, on inquiry, that it was one word, which meant rising

from the foam.

"Did she rise from the foam in Glensofantrim?"

"Yes; every day."

"What is she like, Daddy?"

"Like Mum."

"Oh! Then she must be..." but he stopped at that, rushed at a wall,

scrambled up, and promptly scrambled down again. The discovery that his

mother was beautiful was one which he felt must absolutely be kept to

himself. His father's cigar, however, took so long to smoke, that at

last he was compelled to say:

"I want to see what Mum's brought home. Do you mind, Daddy?"

He pitched the motive low, to absolve him from unmanliness, and was a

little disconcerted when his father looked at him right through, heaved

an important sigh, and answered:

"All right, old man, you go and love her."

He went, with a pretence of slowness, and then rushed, to make up. He

entered her bedroom from his own, the door being open. She was still

kneeling before a trunk, and he stood close to her, quite still.

She knelt up straight, and said:

"Well, Jon?"

"I thought I'd just come and see."

Having given and received another hug, he mounted the window-seat, and

tucking his legs up under him watched her unpack. He derived a pleasure

from the operation such as he had not yet known, partly because she was

taking out things which looked suspicious, and partly because he liked

to look at her. She moved differently from anybody else, especially from

Bella; she was certainly the refinedest-looking person he had ever seen.

She finished the trunk at last, and knelt down in front of him.

"Have you missed us, Jon?"

Little Jon nodded, and having thus admitted his feelings, continued to

nod.

"But you had 'Auntie' June?"

"Oh! she had a man with a cough."

His mother's face changed, and looked almost angry. He added hastily:

"He was a poor man, Mum; he coughed awfully; I--I liked him."

His mother put her hands behind his waist.

"You like everybody, Jon?"

Little Jon considered.

"Up to a point," he said: "Auntie June took me to church one Sunday."

"To church? Oh!"

"She wanted to see how it would affect me." "And did it?"

"Yes. I came over all funny, so she took me home again very quick. I

wasn't sick after all. I went to bed and had hot brandy and water, and

read The Boys of Beechwood. It was scrumptious."




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