princesses. Vernon liked the latter kind best. There was one in particular that he loved, about a princess in a tower with golden hair and a vagabond prince in a ragged green hat. The story ended up in a forest and it was possibly for that reason that Vernon liked it so much.
Sometimes there would be an extra listener. Myra used to come in and be with Vernon during the early afternoon when Nurse Frances had her time off, but Vernonâs father used sometimes to come in after tea when the stories were going on. Little by little it became a habit. Walter Deyre would sit in the shadows just behind Nurse Francesâ chair, and from there he would watch, not his child, but the storyteller. One day Vernon saw his fatherâs hand steal out and close gently over Nurse Francesâ wrist.
And then something happened which surprised him very much. Nurse Frances got up from her chair.
âIâm afraid we must turn you out for this evening, Mr Deyre,â she said quietly. âVernon and I have things to do.â
This astonished Vernon very much, because he couldnât think what those things were. He was still more puzzled when his father got up also and said in a low voice:
âI beg your pardon.â
Nurse Frances bent her head a little, but remained standing. Her eyes met Walter Deyreâs steadily. He said quietly:
âWill you believe that I am really sorry, and let me come tomorrow?â
After that, in some way that Vernon could not have defined, his fatherâs manner was different. He no longer sat so near Nurse Frances. He talked more to Vernon and occasionally they all three played a game â usually Old Maid for which Vernon had a wild passion. They were happy evenings enjoyed by all three.
One day when Nurse Frances was out of the room, Walter Deyre said abruptly:
âDo you like that Nurse of yours, Vernon?â
âNurse Frances? I like her lots. Donât you, Father?â
âYes,â said Walter Deyre, âI do.â
There was a sadness in his voice which Vernon felt.
âIs anything the matter, Father?â
âNothing that can be put right. The horse that gets left at the post never has much chance of making good â and the fact that itâs the horseâs own fault doesnât make matters any better. But thatâs double Dutch to you, old man. Anyway, enjoy your Nurse Frances while youâve got her. There arenât many of her sort knocking about.â
And then Nurse Frances came back and they played Animal Grab.
But Walter Deyreâs words had set Vernonâs mind to work. He tackled Nurse Frances next morning.
âArenât you going to be here always?â
âNo. Only till you get well â or nearly well.â
âWonât you stay always? Iâd like you to.â
âBut you see, thatâs not my work. My work is to look after people who are ill.â
âDo you like doing that?â
âYes, very much.â
âWhy?â
âWell, you see, everyone has some particular kind of work that they like doing and that suits them.â
âMummy hasnât.â
âOh, yes, she has. Her work is to look after this big house and see that everything goes right, and to take care of you and your father.â
âFather was a soldier once. He told me that if ever there was a war, heâd go and be a soldier again.â
âAre you very fond of your father, Vernon?â
âI love Mummy best, of course. Mummy says little boys always love their mothers best. I like being with Father, of course, but thatâs different. I expect itâs because heâs a man. What shall I be when I grow up, do you think? I want to be a sailor.â
âPerhaps youâll write books.â
âWhat about?â
Nurse Frances smiled a little.
âPerhaps about Mr Green, and Poodle and Squirrel and Tree.â
âBut everyone would say that that was