Giant’s Bread · Book I · VII · Chapter 1 7 1

I

Two months after his father sailed for South Africa, Vernon went to school. It had been Walter Deyre’s wish and arrangement, and Myra, at the moment, was disposed to regard any wish of his as law. He was her soldier and her hero, and everything else was forgotten. She was thoroughly happy at this time. Knitting socks for the soldiers, urging on energetic campaigns of “white feather,” sympathizing and talking with other women whose husbands had also gone to fight the wicked, ungrateful Boers.

She felt exquisite pangs parting with Vernon. Her darling⁠—her baby⁠—to go so far away from her. What sacrifices mothers had to make! But it had been his father’s wish.

Poor darling, he was sure to be most terribly homesick! She couldn’t bear to think of it.

But Vernon was not homesick. He had no real passionate attachment to his mother. All his life he was to be fondest of her when away from her. His escape from her emotional atmosphere was felt by him as a relief.

He had a good temperament for school life. He had an aptitude for games, a quiet manner and an unusual amount of physical courage. After the dull monotony of life under the reign of Miss Robbins, school was a delightful novelty. Like all the Deyres, he had the knack of getting on with people. He made friends easily.

But the reticence of the child who so often answered “Nothing” clung to him. Except with one or two people, that reticence was to go through life with him. His school friends were people with whom he shared “doing things.” His thoughts he was to keep to himself and share with only one person. That person came into his life very soon.

On his very first holidays, he found Josephine.