But this was too expensive; "and," said Taffy, "I think he would
rather have something in Latin." The bookseller rubbed his chin,
went to his shelves, and took down a small _De Imitatione Christi_,
bound in limp calf. "You can't go far wrong with this, either," he
assured them. So Taffy paid down his money.
Just as the boys reached the hotel, Sir Harry drove up in a cab; and
five minutes later they were all rattling off to the railway station.
Taffy eyed the cab-horse curiously, never doubting it to be Sir
Harry's new purchase; and was extremely surprised when the cabman
whipped it up and trotted off--after receiving his money, too.
But in the bustle there was no time to ask questions.
It was about three in the afternoon, and the sun already low in the
south-west, when they came in sight of the cross-roads and Sir Harry
pulled up his bays. And there, on the green by the sign-post, stood
Mrs. Raymond. She caught Taffy in her arms and hugged him till he
felt ashamed, and glanced around to see if the others were looking;
but the phaeton was bowling away down the road.
"But why are _you_ here, mother?"
Mrs. Raymond gazed a while after the carriage before speaking.
"Your father had to be at the church," she said.
"But there's no service--" He broke off "See what I've brought for
you!" And he pulled out the portrait. "Do you know who it is?"
Humility thanked him and kissed him passionately.
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