Part 13 (1/2)

But why the malignant and the turbaned Turk effect? is my head broken, too?”

”Oh, no, dear Doctor Strong, nothing malignant; nothing at all of that nature, I a.s.sure you. Oh, I hope, I hope the arm is properly cared for!

but it was so unfortunate his being laid up with pleurisy just at this time, wasn't it? and a severe contusion on your head, you see, so that for some hours we were sadly--but now you are entirely yourself, and we are so humbly and devoutly thankful, dear Doctor Strong!”

”I think you might say 'Geoffrey,' when I am all broke up!” said the boy.

”Geoffrey, dear Geoffrey!” murmured Miss Vesta, patting his sound arm softly.

”I think you might sit down by me and tell me all about it. Who is laid up with pleurisy? how much am I broken? who brought me home? who set my arm? I want to know all about it, please!”

The young doctor spoke with cheerful imperiousness. Miss Vesta glanced timorously toward the door, then sat down by the bedside. ”Hus.h.!.+” she said, softly. ”You must not excite yourself, my dear young friend, you must not, indeed. I will tell you all about it, if you think--if you are quite sure you ought to be told. You are a physician, of course, but she was very anxious that you should not be excited.”

”Who was anxious? I shall be very much excited if you keep things from me, Miss Vesta. I feel my temperature going up this moment.”

”Dear! dear!” cried poor Miss Vesta. ”Try--to--to restrain it, Geoffrey, I implore you. I will--I will tell you at once. As you surmise, my dear, a dog--we suppose it to have been a dog, though I am not aware that anyone saw the accident. An old man whom you once attended--Mr. b.u.t.ters; you spoke of him, I remember--found you lying in the road, my child, quite unconscious. He is an unpolished person, but possessed of warm affections. I--I can never forget his tender solicitude about you. He brought you home in his wagon, and carried you into the house. He volunteered to go to Greening for Doctor Namby--”

”Namby never put on this bandage!” interrupted Geoffrey.

”No, Geoffrey, no! we do not think highly of Doctor Namby, but there was no one else, for you seem to feel so strongly about Doctor Pottle--”

”Pottle is a boiled cabbage-head!” said Geoffrey. ”He couldn't set a hen's leg without tying it in bow-knots, let alone a man's arm. Who did set it, Miss Vesta? I'm sure I must be up to 105 by this time. I can't answer for the consequences, you know, if--”

”Oh! hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+” cried Miss Vesta. ”He had the pleurisy, as I said; very badly indeed, poor man, so that he was quite, quite invalided--”

”Pottle had? serve him--”

”No, no, Geoffrey; Doctor Namby had. And so--she was quite positive she understood the case, and--Mr. b.u.t.ters upheld her--oh, I trust, I trust I did not do wrong in allowing her to take so grave a responsibility--Sister Phoebe in bed with her erysipelas--Geoffrey--you will not be angry, my dear young friend? Little Vesta set the arm!”

The word finally spoken, Miss Vesta sat panting quickly and softly, like a frightened bird, her eyes fixed anxiously on the young doctor.

The young doctor whistled; then considered the arm again with keen scrutiny.

”The de--that is--she did, did she?” he said, half to himself. He felt it all over with his sound hand, and inspected it again. ”Well, it's a mighty good job,” he said, ”whoever did it.”

Miss Vesta's sigh of relief was almost a gasp. Geoffrey looked up quickly, and saw her gentle eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears.

”You dear angel!” he cried, taking her hand. ”I have made you anxious.

I am a brute--a cuttlefish--hang me, somebody, do!”

”Oh! hush, hus.h.!.+ my boy!” cried the little lady, wiping away her tears.

”It was only--the relief, Geoffrey. To feel that you are not angry at her--Sister Phoebe would call it presumption, but Vesta did not _mean_ to be presumptuous, Geoffrey--and that you think it is not so ill done as I feared. I--I am so happy, that is all, my dear!”

She wept silently, and Geoffrey lay and called himself names.

Presently--”Where is she?” he asked.

”Sister Phoebe? she is still in bed, and suffering a good deal. I am continuing the remedies you gave her. I--I have thought it best to let her suppose that Doctor Namby had attended you, Geoffrey. She is very nervous, and I feared to excite her.”

Geoffrey commended her wisdom, but made it clear that he was not thinking of Miss Phoebe. Couldn't he see Miss Little Vesta? he asked.