“ ‘Don’t even think about touching them!’ ” exclaimed Deka with an impish grin.
Miss Prim winked at the little boy as she opened a tin of apple biscuits. Then Septimus spoke from the depths of his uncle’s wing chair.
“I don’t think we’ll be able to visit you in Assisi. We alreadyknowit. We went there when we weresmall.”
The librarian suppressed a smile and began handing out biscuits.
“I don’t think we will ever see you again,” said Eksi sadly from the rug. “You’ll go to Italy and have adventures and never want to come back, like Robert Browning’s wife.”
Miss Prim laughed.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. My trip is nothing like hers. She was called Elizabeth Barrett, by the way. She was in love, and she left for love, remember?”
“You too,” said the little girl with conviction.
“Me?” said the librarian, taken aback. “For love? That’s ridiculous! I’m doing no such thing. What gave you that idea?”
“It’s not my idea, it’s the gardener’s,” the child replied.
“He hearseverythingthrough the library window,” her older brother confirmed. “He can probably hear us now.”
Miss Prim shot a furtive glance at the window to make sure it was firmly closed.
“The gardener couldn’t have heard something that isn’t true. Do you really think if I were going to Italy for love I’d tell anyone? Anyway, you shouldn’t snoop or spread gossip, it’s not a nice habit. I’m sure the gardener got it wrong. He wasn’t talking about me.”
“He was talking about you,” said Deka, adamant.
The librarian handed around the biscuits a second time while trying to think how to get out of this fix.
“How do you know? Did he mention my name?”
The children exchanged eloquent looks.
“If we tell you, will you be cross with him?” asked Septimus warily.
“Of course not.”
After a moment, during which he seemed to be weighing whether she meant what she’d said, the boy continued.
“What he said was: ‘She’s going to Italy to look for a husband.’Shemeans you. That’s what he calls you,” he explained.
Miss Prim took a deep breath but said nothing. A grave silence reigned in the room for a few minutes. Then a sound at the door made them all turn: the two enormous dogs came in, brushing against the librarian’s knees and flopping down on the rug.
“She,” muttered the librarian.
Then she addressed the children.
“Will you miss me when I go?”
“Of course, though we won’t know for sure until after you’ve left,” replied Septimus philosophically.
“We weren’t sorry when the others left,” added Teseris in an undertone. “But they weren’t like you.”
Miss Prim stared into the fire. Her eyes stung with a pleasant, watery sting. She felt comforted by the children’s honesty, the simplicity with which they spoke of what they disliked and what they loved, the lack of duplicity in their opinions, the absence of the tangled skeins that so often complicated adult relationships.
“Helikes you too. He’s sad you’re leaving,” declared Eksi, stroking the shaggy fur of one of the dogs.
Prudencia blushed and averted her eyes, staring into the fire once more.
