But Ferdy did not need to wait till Thomas had made his inquiries, which most likely would have taken some time, as he was not a young man who cared to be hurried.

Miss Lilly in her quiet way was quite excited when she came the next morning.

"Whom do you think I met yesterday afternoon on my way home, Ferdy?" she said as soon as she and Chrissie came into the oriel room for the part of the morning they now regularly passed there with the little invalid.

"I can guess," said Ferdy eagerly. "I believe it was Jesse Piggot," and then he told Miss Lilly about having seen a boy's figure standing at the end of the drive looking in.

"Poor fellow," said Miss Lilly, "I daresay he was watching in the hopes of seeing some one who could—" but then she stopped short.

Ferdy looked up with curiosity.

"'Who could' what, Miss Lilly?" he asked.

His governess smiled.

"I think I mustn't tell you," she said. "It might disappoint the boy, if he is wanting to give you a little surprise. And I scarcely think he would have sent in a message by any one but me," she went on, speaking more to herself than to Ferdy, "after what I promised him last night."

"What did you promise him, Miss Lilly?" the little boy asked. His curiosity was greatly excited.

"Only that if possible I would get leave for him to come in and see you for a few minutes," the young lady replied. "I must ask Mrs. Ross."

"Oh, I'm sure mamma wouldn't mind," said Ferdy. "I do so wonder what the surprise is."

"You'd better not think about it," said Chrissie sagely. "That's what I do. I put things quite out of my mind if I know I can't find out about them. Don't you, Miss Lilly?"

Miss Lilly smiled.

"I try to," she said, "but I own I find it very far from easy sometimes. I think the best way to put something out of your mind is to put something else in. So supposing we go on with our lessons, Ferdy."

"Oh, but first," said Ferdy eagerly, "first I must show you the beautiful things mamma and Chris brought me yesterday. See here, Miss Lilly."

And Eva examined his new possessions with great interest, even greater interest than Ferdy knew, for her head was full of her new ideas about Jesse, and the talent she believed he had shown in his carving. She turned over the leaves of the little book of animal outlines till she came to one of a pig, and she sat looking at it in silence for so long that Christine peeped over her shoulder to see what it could be that had so taken her fancy.

"It's a pig, Ferdy," she called out, laughing. "Miss Lilly, I didn't know you were so fond of pigs. I'm sure there are much prettier animals in the book than pigs."

"I daresay there are," said her governess good-naturedly. "But I am very interested in pigs, especially their heads. I wish you would draw me one, Ferdy, after lessons. I would like to see how you can do it."

Ferdy was quite pleased at the idea. But in the meantime Miss Lilly reminded both children that they must give their attention to the English history which was that morning's principal lesson.

Jesse Piggot did not make his appearance. It was a busy day at the farm, and for once there was plenty for him to do. He had finished carving the stick, and if he had dared he would have run off with it to the Watch House. But what he had gone through lately had been of use to the boy. He was becoming really anxious to get a good regular place at Farmer Meare's, for he had no wish to go off again on "odd jobs" under the tender mercies of his rough Draymoor cousins.

And, on the whole, Miss Lilly settled in her own mind that she was not sorry he had not come that day, for she hoped that Mr. Ross had seen her grandfather that morning and heard from him about the lessons in wood-carving which the old doctor thought might be so good for Ferdy; and more than that, she hoped that perhaps Mr. Ross's interest in poor Jesse might be increased by what Dr. Lilly would tell about him.

It all turned out very nicely, as you will hear.

Late that afternoon, just as lessons were over and Chrissie had got her mother's leave to walk a little bit of her way home with Miss Lilly, Thomas appeared in the oriel room with a message from Mrs. Ross.

"Would Miss Lilly stay to have tea with Miss Christine and Master Ferdy? Mrs. Ross would come up presently, but there was a gentleman in the drawing-room with her just now."

"What a bother!" exclaimed Chrissie. "Now it will be too late for me to go with you, Miss Lilly. I wish horrid, stupid gentlemen wouldn't come to call and interrupt mamma when it's her time for coming up to see Ferdy. And it's not really tea-time yet."

But tea appeared all the same. There was plainly some reason for Miss Lilly's staying later than usual. And when the reason was explained in the shape of Dr. Lilly, who put his kind old face in at the door half an hour or so later, no one welcomed him more heartily than Chrissie, though she got very red when Ferdy mischievously whispered to her to ask if she counted him "a horrid, stupid gentleman."

Dr. Lilly was a great favourite with the children. And never had Ferdy been more pleased to see him than to-day.

"I am so glad you've come," he said, stretching out his little hand, thinner and whiter than his old friend would have liked to see it. "Miss Lilly says you know a lot about wood-carving, and I do so want to learn to do it."

Dr. Lilly smiled.

"I am afraid my granddaughter has made you think me much cleverer than I am, my dear boy," he replied. "I can't say I know much about it myself, but I have a young friend who does, and if you really want to learn, I daresay he might be of use to you."

Ferdy's eyes sparkled, and so did Miss Lilly's, for she knew her grandfather too well to think that he would have spoken in this way to Ferdy unless he had good reason for it.

"Grandfather must have seen Mr. Ross and got his consent for the lessons," she thought.

And she looked as pleased as Ferdy himself, who was chattering away like a little magpie to Dr. Lilly about all the lovely things he would make if he really learnt to carve—or "cut out," as he kept calling it—very nicely.

"What I'd like best of all to do is swallows," he said. "You see I've got to know the swallows over this window so well. I do believe I know each one of them sep'rately. And sometimes in the morning early—I can hear them out of my bedroom window too—I really can almost tell what they're talking about."

"Swallows are charming," said Dr. Lilly, "but to see them at their best they should be on the wing. They are rather awkward-looking birds when not flying."

"They've got very nice faces," said Ferdy, who did not like to allow that his friends were short of beauty in any way. "Their foreheads and necks are such a pretty browny colour, and then their top feathers are a soft sort of blue, greyey blue, which looks so nice over the white underneath. I think they're awfully pretty altogether."

"You have watched them pretty closely, I see," said Dr. Lilly, pleased at Ferdy's careful noticing of his feathered neighbours. "I love swallows as much as you do, but it takes a master hand to carve movement. You may begin with something easier, and who knows what you may come to do in time."

Ferdy did not answer. He lay still, his blue eyes gazing up into the sky, from which at that moment they almost seemed to have borrowed their colour. Visions passed before his fancy of lovely things which he would have found it difficult to describe, carvings such as none but a fairy hand could fashion, of birds and flowers of beauty only to be seen in dreams—it was a delight just to think of them. And one stood out from the rest, a window like his own oriel window, but entwined with wonderful foliage, and in one corner a nest, with a bird still almost on the wing, poised on a branch hard by.

"Oh," and he all but spoke his fancy aloud, "I feel as if I could make it so lovely."

But just then, glancing downwards, though still out of doors, he gave a little start.

"It is him," he exclaimed. "Miss Lilly, dear, do look. Isn't that Jesse, standing at the gate?"

Yes, Jesse it was. Not peeping in shyly, as some boys would have done. That was not Mr. Jesse's way. No, there he stood, in the middle of the open gateway, quite at his ease, one hand in his pocket, in the fellow of which the other would have been, no doubt, if it had not been holding an inconvenient shape of parcel—a long narrow parcel done up in a bit of newspaper, which had seen better days; not the sort of parcel you could possibly hide in a pocket. It was tea-time at the farm, and Jesse had slipped down to the Watch House in hopes of catching sight of Miss Lilly, for she had spoken of the afternoon as the best time for seeing Ferdy.

"Of course it is Jesse," said the young lady. "Look, grandfather, don't you think I may run down and ask Mrs. Ross to let me bring him in for a few minutes?"

And off she went.

A minute or two later Ferdy and Chrissie, still looking out of the window in great anxiety lest Jesse should get tired of waiting and go away before Miss Lilly could stop him, saw their governess hurry up the drive. And Jesse, as he caught sight of her, came forward, a little shy and bashful now, as he tugged at his cap by way of a polite greeting.

Ferdy's face grew rosy with pleasure.

"They're coming in," he said to Dr. Lilly.

"Yes," said the old gentleman. "I will go over to the other side of the room with the newspaper, so that the poor lad won't feel confused by seeing so many people."

But all the same from behind the shelter of his newspaper the old gentleman kept a look-out on the little scene passing before him.

Miss Lilly came in quickly, but Jesse hung back for a moment or two at the door. He was almost dazzled at first by the bright prettiness before him. For he had never seen such a charming room before, and though he would not have understood it if it had been said to him, underneath his rough outside Jesse had one of those natures that are much and quickly alive to beauty of all kinds. And everything that love and good taste could do to make the oriel room a pleasant prison for the little invalid boy, had been done.

It was a very prettily shaped room to begin with, and the creeping plants trained round the window outside were now almost in their full summer richness. Roses peeped in with their soft blushing faces; honeysuckle seemed climbing up by the help of its pink and scarlet fingers; clematis, the dear old "traveller's joy," was there too, though kept in proper restraint. The oriel window looked a perfect bower, for inside, on the little table by Ferdy's couch, were flowers too—one of his own moss-baskets, filled with wild hyacinth, and a beautiful large petalled begonia, one of old Ferguson's special pets, which he had been proud to send in to adorn Master Ferdy's room, and two lovely fairy-like maiden-hair ferns.

And the little group in the window seemed in keeping with the flowers and plants. There was the delicate face of the little invalid, and pretty Christine with her fluffy golden hair, and Miss Lilly, slight and dark-eyed, stooping over them, as she explained to Ferdy that Jesse was longing to see him.

Altogether the poor boy, rude and rough as he was, felt as if he were gazing at some beautiful picture; he would have liked to stand there longer—the feelings that came over him were so new and so fascinating. He did not see old Dr. Lilly behind his newspaper in the farther corner of the room—he felt as if in a dream, and he quite started when Miss Lilly, glancing round, spoke to him by name.

"Come in, Jesse," she said, "I do want Master Ferdy to see—you know what."

Jesse was clutching the little walking-stick tightly. He had almost forgotten about it. But he moved it from his right arm to his left, as he caught sight of the small white hand stretched out to clasp his own big brown one—though, after all, as hands go, the boy's were neither thick nor clumsy.

"I'm so glad you've come back, Jesse," said Ferdy in his clear, rather weak tones. "You didn't care for being away, did you? At least, not much?"

"No, Master Ferdy, 'twas terrible rough," said the boy. "I'm glad to be back again, though I'd be still gladder if Mr. Meare'd take me on reg'lar like."

"I hope he will soon," said Ferdy. "I daresay papa wouldn't mind saying something to him about it, if it would be any good. I'll ask him. But what's that you've got wrapped up so tight, Jesse?"

Jesse reddened.

"Then the young lady didn't tell you?" he said, half turning to Miss Lilly.

"Of course not," she replied. "Don't you remember, Jesse, I said you should give it to Master Ferdy yourself?"

Jesse fumbled away at the strips of newspaper he had wound round his stick, till Ferdy's eyes, watching with keen interest, caught sight of the ears and the eyes and then the snout of the grotesque but unmistakable pig's head—"old Jerry—the biggest porker at the farm."

"Oh, Jesse," cried Ferdy, his face radiant with delight, "how lovely!" and though the word was not quite exactly what one would have chosen, it sounded quite perfect to Jesse—it showed him that Master Ferdy "were right down pleased."

"'Tis only a bit o' nonsense," he murmured as he stuffed the stick into the little invalid's hands. "I thought it'd make you laugh, Master Ferdy. I took it off old Jerry—you know old Jerry—the fat old fellow as grunts so loud for his dinner."

"Of course I remember him," said Ferdy. "Don't you, Christine? We've often laughed at him when we've run in to look at the pigs. Isn't it capital? Do you really mean that you cut it out yourself, Jesse? Why, I'd never be able to cut out like that! He really looks as if he was just going to open his mouth to gobble up his dinner, doesn't he, Miss Lilly?"

"He's very good—very good indeed," she replied. And then raising her voice a little, "Grandfather," she said, "would you mind coming over here to look at Jesse's carving?"

Dr. Lilly crossed the room willingly. Truth to tell, the newspaper had not been getting very much of his attention during the last few minutes.

In his own mind he had been prepared for some little kindly exaggeration on Eva's part of Jesse's skill, so that he was really surprised when he took the stick in his own hands and examined it critically, to see the undoubted talent—to say the least—the work showed.

Rough and unfinished and entirely "untaught" work of course it was. But that is exactly the sort of thing to judge by. It was the spirit of it that was so good, though I daresay you will think that a curious word to apply to the rude carving of so very "unspiritual" a subject as an old pig's head, by a peasant boy! All the same I think I am right in using the expression.

"Life-like and certainly original," murmured Dr. Lilly. "Grotesque, of course—that is all right, that is always how they begin. But we must be careful—very careful," he went on to himself in a still lower tone of voice.

And aloud he only said, as he looked up with a smile, "Very good, my boy, very good. You could not have a better amusement for your idle hours than trying to copy what you see in the world about you. It is the seeing that matters. You must have watched this old fellow pretty closely to understand his look, have you not?"

Jesse, half pleased, half shy, answered rather gruffly. "He do be a queer chap, to be sure. Master Ferdy, and Missie too, has often laughed at him when they've been up at the farm. And that's how I come to think of doing him on a stick. And many a time," he went on, as if half ashamed of the childishness of the occupation, "there's naught else I can do to make the time pass, so to say."

"You could not have done better," said the old doctor kindly. "Don't think it is waste of time to try your hand at this sort of thing after your other work is done. I hope you may learn to carve much better. A little teaching would help you on a good deal, and proper tools and knowledge of the different kinds of wood."

Jesse's face expressed great interest, but then it clouded over a little.

"Yes, sir," he agreed, "but I dunnot see how I could get the teaching. There's nothing like that about here—not like in big towns, where they say there's teaching for nothing, or next to nothing—evenings at the Institutes."

"Ah well, help comes to those who help themselves. Master Ferdy may be able to give you some hints if he learns carving himself. And he can tell you some stories of the poor country boys in Switzerland and some parts of Germany—how they work away all by themselves till they learn to make all sorts of beautiful things. Have you any other bits of carving by you that you could show me?"

Again Jesse's brown face lighted up, and Ferdy listened eagerly.

"Oh lor, yes, sir, all manner of nonsense—whistles, sir, though there's some sense in whistles, to be sure," with a twinkle of fun.

"Then bring me a pocketful of nonsense this evening—no, to-morrow evening will be better—to my house at Bollins. You know it, of course? And we'll have a look over them together. Perhaps I may have a friend with me, who knows more about carving than I do."

"And after Dr. Lilly has seen them, please bring some of them for me to see too, Jesse," said Ferdy. "When can he come again, do you think, Miss Lilly?"

Miss Lilly considered.

"On Friday afternoon. Can you get off for half an hour on Friday about this time, Jesse?"

"Oh yes, miss, no fear but I can," the boy replied.

"And thank you ever so many times—a great, great many times, for old Jerry," said Ferdy as he stretched out his little hand in farewell.

Jesse beamed with pleasure.

"I'll see if I can't do something better for you, Master Ferdy," he said.

And to himself he added, "It's a deal sensibler, after all, than knocking up after mischief all the evening—a-shamming to smoke and a-settin' trees on fire." For this had been one of his worst misdeeds in the village not many months before, when he and some other boys had hidden their so-called "cigars" of rolled-up leaves, still smouldering, in the hollow of an old oak, and frightened everybody out of their wits in the night by the conflagration which ended the days of the poor tree and threatened to spread farther.

Still more pleased would he have been could he have overheard Ferdy's words after he had gone.

"Isn't it really capital, Dr. Lilly? I don't believe I could ever do anything so like real as this old Jerry."