Part 56 (1/2)
”It's of no good,” said Dexter suddenly, and with a look of despair upon his face. ”I'm so terribly stupid.”
”I'm afraid, Dexter,” said Helen merrily, ”if you are stupid, I am too.”
”What! can't you do it!”
”No.”
”Are you sure?”
”Yes, Dexter. Algebra is beyond me.”
”Hooray!” cried the boy, leaping from his seat, and dancing round the room, ending by relieving his excitement by turning head over heels on the hearthrug.
”Is that to show your delight at my ignorance, Dexter?” said Helen, smiling.
”No,” he cried, colouring up, as he stood before her out of breath. ”It was because I was glad, because I was not so stupid as I thought.”
”You are not stupid, Dexter,” said Helen, smiling. ”We must go back to the beginning, and try and find out how to do these things. Does not Mr Limpney explain them to you?”
”Yes,” said Dexter dismally, ”but when he has done, I don't seem to see what he means, and it does make me so miserable.”
”Poor boy!” said Helen gently. ”There, you must not make your studies a trouble. They ought to be a great pleasure.”
”They would be if you taught me,” said Dexter eagerly. ”I say, do ask Dr Grayson to send Mr Limpney away, and you help me. I will try so hard.”
”A pretty tutor I should make,” cried Helen, laughing. ”Why, Dexter, I am as ignorant, you see, as you!”
Dexter's face was a study. He seemed hurt and pleased at the same time, and his face was full of reproach as he said--
”Ignorant as me! Oh!”
”There, I'll speak to papa about your lessons, and he will, I have no doubt, say a few words to Mr Limpney about trying to make your tasks easier, and explaining them a little more.”
”Will you!” cried the boy excitedly, and he caught her hands in his.
”Certainly I will, Dexter.”
”Then I will try so hard, and I'll write down on pieces of paper all the things you don't want me to do, and carry 'em in my pockets, and take them out and look at them sometimes.”
”What!” cried Helen, laughing.
”Well, that's what Mr Limpney told me to do, so that I should not forget the things he taught me. Look here!”
He thrust his hand into his trousers-pocket, and brought out eagerly a crumpled-up piece of paper, but as he did so a number of oats flew out all over the room.
”O Dexter! what a pocket! Now what could you do with oats?”
”They were only for my rabbits,” he said. ”There, those are all nouns that end in _us_, feminine nouns. Look, _tribus, acus, porticus_.
Isn't it stupid?”