This audio was created with an artificial voice for the audiobook initiative on Sermon Audio. Chapter 29 Jeffrey's Return There it is! There's the carriage! Come, Arnold, come!" Ted seized my hand, and we rushed as fast as my legs would carry me down the grassy slope which we had mounted to obtain a view of the road to be ready to welcome Geoffrey as soon as the carriage should stop at the hall door. It was a lovely spring day, soft and warm. A day on which it almost seemed as though one could see the buds expanding and the flowers shooting up. The hedges were white with snowy blackthorn blossom, and the woods were golden with primroses and daffodils. The carriage was thrown quite open, so mild and warm was the air, and so quickly did it come sweeping down the drive that before we had decided how to meet Geoffrey, or what to say, there he was actually amongst us, holding out his hands eagerly, his whole face aglow with the joy of welcome. "'Ted! Ted! Arnold!' was his eager cry, and then we forgot our grief, our pity, our fears, forgot everything but the happiness of seeing him again. We clambered into the carriage and clasped him round the neck, and felt how very dearly we both loved him. Aunt Mary and Uncle Reginald were there too, and we were pleased to see them back, but we had no eyes just at that time for anyone but Geoffrey, no ears for any voice but his. Now, my boy," said Uncle Reginald, laughing a little, we must get you into the house before you are quite smothered by these young savages. Make way, youngsters. You shall have your talk out all in good time. We jumped down to the ground once again, but as Uncle Reginald was stepping in to lift him, Geoffrey held up his hand as though to arrest him and said with a beaming face, oh, Papa, wait a moment, please. I want to look, I want to listen. Oh, isn't it lovely, and how the birds do sing, and the sunshine. Papa, it never looks a bit like this in London. Oh, I am so happy now that I am home again. He spoke no more than the truth. It was all in keeping with his nature. Whilst we were thinking of the sad change which had come to Cloud and to spoil his life, he thought only of the brightness and beauty around him. And I believe truly that a homecoming which might have seemed very sad, almost bitter in its contrast to others which had gone before, had nothing but joy and gladness for him, and that there was nothing feigned or assumed in his bright smile and joyous words of pleasure. I think we, too, were infected by his happy spirits. I think we hardly realised what really had befallen him. It was not until he had been lifted from the carriage and laid in his old place upon the sofa in the hall, not till we actually saw with our own eyes that one of his active limbs was missing, Not until then did we really understand the magnitude of the calamity that had befallen our brave playfellow and companion. A sudden silence fell upon us. We hardly liked even to look at him and knew not what to say. But Geoffrey either did not or would not notice our awkwardness. He looked round at everything with shining eyes. He was full of eager questioning about everybody and everything on the place. When the butler carried in some cups of tea to refresh the travellers, Geoffrey greeted him with bright, friendly words, and would not seem to notice that the old servant could hardly command his voice to answer back, or the tears that stood in his eyes. Yes, it was the same Geoffrey of old times that had come back to us now, maimed and helpless. The change that had befallen his body had not touched his mind. He was the same eager, active Geoffrey as of old, with the same love for the outside world, the same love of all that was beautiful or that had life. Papa he asked earnestly, and with such a pleading look in his eyes. Papa dear, I saw the wheelchair standing in the porch just now. May I go out for a little while with Ted and Arnold? It is so warm this afternoon, and I do so want to see round the garden. You don't know how I ache to see everything again. The sky, the trees, the birds, and everything. I am sure I shan't take any harm. Do let me go. The wheelchair, which seemed to move by itself, had arrived from London a few days before. Seated in it, Geoffrey would be able to wheel himself about anywhere upon the level, and that almost without effort. It was remarkably soft and comfortable, too, and almost invited one to rest there, But the idea of seeing Geoffrey roll himself about in a wheelchair, we could not realize it at all. Now, however, he was lifted in, and Ted walked behind, helping to push that he might not tire himself, for he was still very weak. I walked beside Geoffrey, answering his questions and stealing a shy look at him from time to time. His bright eyes wandered eagerly round from one familiar object to another, every tree, every flower claimed his notice. The changing lights and shadows in the landscape, the brilliance of the sunshine, the soft beauty of the sky, called forth delighted comments every moment, while the songs of the birds fell like music upon his ear. He seemed perfectly happy as he watched and listened, and the old serenity of his face was as unclouded as ever. I could not understand it. It awed and oppressed me. We made a round of all the places near at hand where Geoffrey's chair could go. He heard with great interest of the different sittings of eggs which would shortly be hatched. He had Lightfoot led round for him to look at and caress, and wondered how soon he would be allowed to drive him again. and then he admitted he was rather tired, but said he did not want to go in yet. He would like to be wheeled round on to the west lawn to see the sunset and have a nice chat. We did his bidding, and soon Ted and I were lying upon the grass beside Geoffrey's chair, with our faces turned towards the western sky, watching its clear brightness and the gradual increase of glorious tints in the clouds as the sun approached nearer and nearer to the horizon. We were silent for a while. Visions of former days were rising in our minds, and I think our hearts were very full. Mine was heavy too, and I could see tears standing in Ted's eyes, but Geoffrey's face was very peaceful. Now look here, he said by and by in his quiet matter-of-fact way. I don't want you two to be miserable and half afraid of me. I want us to be just like what we were before, as much as we can be, that is. There is a great deal I can do still. At least I shall be able to when I get strong again. We can have good times still, and you mustn't be unhappy. I feel very happy indeed tonight. Poor Ted's tears overflowed, though he tried hard to hold them in check. Oh, Geoffrey, Geoffrey, he sobbed. It is so hard, so very hard. Will you never be able to run any more? No, not to run, answered Geoffrey quietly. By and by, perhaps I can have a cork leg or wooden leg made, and I shall be able to walk about again. It is very nice to think of that. Once I thought I should never be able to go except on crutches. Ted only sobbed on. I thought of my discarded crutches and shivered. Fancy Geoffrey, active Geoffrey, hopping slowly about between two crutches. Oh, it is dreadfully hard, I cried impulsively. Geoffrey, how can you bear it? I was sorry the moment the words had escaped me, but they did not seem to disturb him. "'It did seem hard at first,' he answered gently. "'Very hard. Sometimes I thought I could not bear it, but I am sure I can now. You know, Arnold, I told you that if God sent us anything to bear, he always helped us, and so he does. I am quite sure of it now.' "'I could not answer,' and Geoffrey continued. "'Sometimes it does not even seem very hard. Oh, Geoffrey,' I burst out all at once, full of remorse, "'you do make me so ashamed!' I was so impatient once, and I said you would be worse if you were lame. I can't tell how you can be so good." I am not good," he answered gravely, and then a sudden smile beamed over his face, and he added, in an amused way, Ah, we never thought we should change places like this, did we? But you will know how I feel and sympathise. I did not know how you felt, so I could not sympathise, though I did try." You were very good to me," I answered remorsefully, and I was often so cross and disagreeable. I can't tell what makes you so different. I was so miserable, and you say you aren't. Why is it? I think I know," Geoffrey said softly. Do you? Why? I don't think you asked God to help you, and I ask him very, very often to help me. I couldn't do anything without that. We were all silent for a while after that, and then Ted broke out. Oh, Jeffrey, do teach us how to be good. We do so want to be good, Arnold and I. Do teach us how. We want to be like you. Don't wish to be like me, answered Jeffrey with one of his wonderful smiles. Try to be like someone else. End of chapter 29, Jeffrey's Return. This audio was created with an artificial voice for the audiobook initiative on Sermon Audio. There may be mispronunciations or occasional repetitions. To report a mistake, please email us at info at sermonaudio.com and include the sermon ID or title of the message and the time at which the error occurs. We will do our best to get it corrected for future listeners.