This audio was created with an artificial voice for the audiobook initiative on Sermon Audio. Chapter 3 Two Brothers I was asleep next morning, and sleeping soundly, when I was suddenly awakened by a bright flood of light which streamed into the room. I rubbed my eyes and sat up in my little bed. A smiling, rosy maidservant in fresh-print dress and snow-white cap and apron was opening the shutters, and the glorious spring sunshine, sunshine that one never sees in London, came streaming into the room. Outside, the tall trees stood out in bold relief against the dazzling gold of the sky, and the green grass sparkled with the dewdrops which lay upon it like a thick white carpet. And how the shadows danced and chased each other over the sunny lawn, and how the birds sang in the sunshine. I had never dreamed of such beauty or of such music. Now, Master Arnold, it's a lovely morning for you," said the smiling girl. I am going to help you to dress and get down to the breakfast room. It's like summer outside. Master Geoffrey has been out these two hours and more. I stared at the girl aghast. Surely I was not expected to get up to breakfast to go down and face a strange household, I who was always treated as an invalid. I never get up for breakfast, I answered sharply, and I can't go down. I don't want to see anyone. I'm lame, and I'm sick. I shall stay where I am. But I soon found that I was no longer master of my own movements. I was washed and dressed whether I would or not, And then the girl lifted me easily in her strong arms, wrapped a soft shawl about me, and carried me bodily from the room. A sound night's sleep had done its work. I was quite well enough to experience a thrill of excitement and curiosity as I looked round me at the curious and beautiful things I passed. The corridor was wide and light, hung with pictures and armour, and covered with a thick soft carpet. The dark oak stairs were so wide and shallow that I was quite sure I should be able to get up and down them by the aid of my crutches. The great square hall, with its carpet and fireplaces, was more like a room, I thought, than a hall, and was filled with objects that roused my admiration and curiosity. But I had no time to make any minute examination then, for Bessie the maid carried me quickly through it and into a very bright, pretty room, with long windows opening into the veranda, where, upon a snow-white cloth, breakfast was laid for four. Nobody was in the room yet, so I was laid down upon a sofa and left alone to look about me. The view from the window was the same as the one from my room, and as I lay staring out upon the sunny lawn, wondering how the grass could look so green or the sunlight so bright, a shadow suddenly fell within the room, and Geoffrey opened one of the long windows and came in. His brown face was glowing with exercise, his light hair was tumbled by the breeze, his boots were covered with brown soil, and his hands were anything but clean. He looked the picture of health and happiness. I felt an unreasoning pang of envy and jealousy even to see him in such perfect strength and joyous spirits. As his glance fell upon me he smiled suddenly. I can never forget Geoffrey's smile so long as I live. It was so bright, so hearty, so full of laughter and happiness. It seemed to come from the very depth of his nature. It beamed all over the honest face as though he really meant it. It was like a bright steady shaft of sunlight, and it seemed to go right home to the heart of those on whom it shone, and to call up an answering expression even upon the saddest face. I for one could not resist it, and I smiled back. "'I am so glad you have come,' said Geoffrey. "'We have been talking about you a whole week, Ted and I.' I made no answer, not knowing what to say. "'We mean to make you quite strong and jolly,' continued Geoffrey with another broad smile. "'This is the most first-rate place in the whole world.' I made no answer, but turned my head away. I felt half-vexed without knowing why. I'll teach you all about farming and chickens, ducks and cows and pigs, and we'll drive you out into the woods, and we'll show you all our favourite places. You've just come the right time. Everything is coming on splendidly. The bluebells are trying all they know to come out. and I found a wood anemone yesterday quite open, and there's a bit of blackthorn in flower in the orchard hedge in the shelter of the south wall, and the peach trees are beginning to come quite out, and it's only the 20th of March today. I never knew anything like it." Geoffrey's face fairly glowed, but he was talking riddles to me. I knew no more about spring flowers than an underground mole, and I could not understand his enthusiasm. It seemed childish to me. My silence appeared at last to disconcert him a little. He looked down at his boots and then at his hands. I must go and get cleaned up, he said, and he made a hasty exit by the door. He had been gone only a few minutes before the door opened again, and Ted came bounding in. He looked even more beautiful. now that I saw him in the morning sunlight and close at hand than upon the lawn last night. I was very susceptible to personal beauty, and my heart went out to him at once. He too paused and looked at me smiling. Then he came up and put his arms caressingly round my neck, laying his soft cheek against mine. We are going to be your brothers now, Arnold, Jeff and I. Poor Arnold. We are going to make you quite well and happy, and dear Aunt Mary will help us. You shall never cry or be unhappy any more. Everyone is happy here." I kissed Ted and clung to him, and felt I could love him very dearly. He was so gentle, so beautiful, and his voice was soft like a bird's. I thought I should be quite happy if I could only be like him. He had gentle, winning ways, and the caressing confidence of one used to be loved. Before many minutes were over I felt at home with him, and I began to feel half ashamed of my former sullenness. When Aunt Mary came in a few minutes later she found us in earnest talk and she kissed us both with her sweetest smile before sitting down to the urn. Geoffrey was a few minutes late and he came in with a rush, flinging his arms round Aunt Mary's neck in a warm embrace before taking his seat. Late, Geoffrey, she said gently, yet with a smile. I came in in time, Aunt Mary, but I was dirty They are plowing the nine-acre field and the ground is heavy. I never knew it worse. Oh, and Ted, I found a blackbird's nest in one of the laurel bushes down by the pond, but there are no eggs yet. And they caught a crow in the trap yesterday, but Archer says there are two more sneaking about the poultry yard. I do hope they'll soon get caught, for Whitetail's brood are all but hatched. Archer says he expects they'll break the shell sometime today. Ted listened with interest to these details, but not with the enthusiastic absorption which Geoffrey evinced. Aunt Mary was reading her letters. Presently she looked up and said, Papa writes that his business is nearly over and that he will be home again on Saturday. Ted's face brightened and he clapped his hands, crying. Oh, I am so glad. But I fancied that Jeffrey's clouded over a very little. At any rate, he did not echo Ted's words. After breakfast, both boys were eager to know what I would like to do and what they could do for me. I was not used to company, and I felt rather oppressed by these attentions. At last, I got out that I should like to lie still and talk with Ted. I could not tell why it was, but Jeffrey's eager love of outdoor life worried and almost irritated me. It seemed impossible to me that he should have any sympathy with one like myself, helpless and ignorant. He looked at me rather wistfully when I made my choice and lingered a little while, but as I did not look at him again he presently stole away. Ted seemed pleased and flattered by my preference. He sat at my feet and chattered away till I soon began to feel quite intimate, and was able to talk back to him. He told me all about himself and Geoffrey, what they did and how they lived, how Aunt Mary and their father taught them mostly, except certain days when they went up to the rectory to have some lessons, and how he loved his books and lessons, and was almost up to Geoffrey, who could not bear them. In a short while, I felt as though I had known these so-called cousins for months, and I was sure that in Ted I had found a friend, my first friend. I like books, Ted. I am like you. Why does not Jeffrey? I don't know. He does like some, those about plants and animals and machinery and natural science. But Latin and Greek and history and geography he can't bear. Papa calls him a big dunce. He gets so angry sometimes. What is your father like? I asked in some little trepidation. He's the dearest father in the world, cried Ted with enthusiasm. Perhaps you will be frightened of him at first. Some people are, for he can look very stern, but he is never stern with me. I love him ever so much. The accent was so marked that I could not help asking, does not Geoffrey? Ted laughed his little soft laugh and shook his head. Not like I do, I think Jeff is half afraid of him. You are not afraid, Ted? I? No, I am not afraid of anyone. I should think everyone loved you, Ted, I said with a sudden burst of confidence. I do, he laughed again and kissed me. Yes, he answered softly, I think they do. End of chapter three, Two Brothers. 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