Part 19 (1/2)

”I dunno. Looks like a young invalid.”

”Ay, that's it,” said the gardener. ”Hair cut short, and looks very white. He's a young luneattic come for the governor to cure. Well, if that's going to be it, I shall resign my place.”

”Oh, I wouldn't do that,” said Peter, who was moved to say it from the same feeling which induced the old woman to pray for long life to the tyrant--for fear they might get a worse to rule over them. ”Doctor'll make him better. Rum-looking little chap.”

As they spoke, they were carrying the ladder and board round to the back of the house, and, in doing so, they had to pa.s.s the kitchen door, where Maria was standing.

”See that game!” said Peter.

”Oh yes. I saw him out of one of the bedroom windows.”

”Young patient, ain't he?” said Peter.

”Patient! Why, he's a young workhouse boy as master's took a fancy to.

I never see such games, for my part.”

Peter whistled, and the head-gardener repeated his determination to resign.

”And he'll never get another gardener like me,” he said.

”That's a true word, Mr Copestake, sir,” said Peter seriously. And then to himself: ”No, there never was another made like you, you old tyrant. I wish you would go, and then we should have a little peace.”

CHAPTER TEN.

DEXTER IS VERY SORRY.

Dexter walked into the doctor's study, and Helen came as rearguard behind.

”Now, sir,” said the doctor sternly, ”I suppose you know that I'm very much displeased with you.”

”Yes, sir, of course you are,” said the boy seriously. ”I don't wonder at it.”

Dr Grayson bit his lip.

”Are you going to cane me?”

”Wait and see, sir. Now, first thing, you go up to your room and wash your hands, and dress yourself properly. Then come down to me.”

Dexter glanced at Helen, but she kept her eyes averted, and the boy went slowly out, keeping his gaze fixed upon her all the time.

”A young scamp!” said the doctor, as soon as they were alone. ”I'm afraid I shall have to send him back.”

Helen looked at him.

”I expected him to be a little wild,” continued the doctor; ”but he is beyond bearing. What do you say, my dear? Too bad, is he not?”

Helen was silent for a few moments.

”It is too soon to say that, papa,” she replied at last. ”There is a great deal in the boy that is most distasteful, but, on the other hand, I cannot help liking the little fellow.”