Part 94 (1/2)
”Down the garden,” said Helen.
”Humph! Hope he is not getting into fresh mischief.”
”I hope not, papa,” said Helen; ”and really I think he is trying very hard.”
”Yes,” said the doctor, going on with his writing. ”How are his knuckles now? can he hold a pen?”
”I think I would let him wait another day or two. And, papa, have you given him a good talking to about that fight?”
”No. Have you?”
”Yes, two or three times; and he has promised never to fight again.”
”My dear Helen, how can you be so absurd?” cried the doctor testily.
”That's just the way with a woman. You ask the boy to promise what he cannot perform. He is sure to get fighting again at school or somewhere.”
”But it seems such a pity, papa.”
”Pooh! pis.h.!.+ pooh! tchah!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the doctor, at intervals. ”He gave that young scoundrel a good thras.h.i.+ng, and quite right too. Don't tell him I said so.”
The doctor had laid down his pen to speak, but he took it up again and began writing, but only to lay it aside once more.
”Dear me! dear me!” he muttered. ”I don't seem to get on with my book as I should like.”
He put down his pen again, rose, took a turn or two up and down the room, and then picked up the newspaper.
”Very awkward of that stupid fellow Limpney,” he said, as he began running down the advertis.e.m.e.nts.
”What did he say, papa, when you spoke to him?”
”Say? Lot of stuff about losing _prestige_ with his other pupils. Was sure Lady Danby did not like him to be teaching a boy of Dexter's cla.s.s and her son. Confound his impudence! Must have a tutor for the boy of some kind.”
Helen glanced uneasily at her father, and then out into the garden.
”Plenty of schools; plenty of private tutors,” muttered the doctor scanning the advertis.e.m.e.nts. ”Hah!”
”What is it, papa!”
The doctor struck the paper in the middle, doubled it up, and then frowned severely as he thrust his gold spectacles up on to his forehead.
”I've made a mistake, my dear,--a great mistake.”
”About Dexter!”
”Yes: a very great mistake.”
”But I'm sure he will improve,” said Helen anxiously.
”So am I, my dear. But our mistake is this: we took the boy from the Union schools, and we kept him here at once, where every one knew him and his late position. We ought to have sent him away for two or three years, and he would have come back completely changed, and the past history forgotten.”