Quicksilver Part 8

The boy let his feet go down into their normal position upon the carpet, and rose up with his handsome young face flushed, and a look of proud delight in his eyes.

"I can walk on my hands ever so far," he shouted boisterously.

"No, no; stop!"

"You look, miss, and see me run like a tomcat."

Before he could be stopped, he was down on all-fours running, with wonderful agility, in and out among the chairs, and over the hearthrug.

"That's what I do to make the boys laugh, when we go to bed. I can go all along the dormitory, and jump from one bed to the other. Where's the dormitory? I'll show you."

"No, no; stop!" cried the doctor, and he caught hold of the boy by the collar. "Confound you, sir: are you full of quicksilver!"

"No. It's skilly," said the boy, "and I ain't full now I'm ever so hungry."

The doctor held him tightly, for he was just off again.

Helen Grayson tried to look serious, but was compelled to hold her handkerchief before her mouth, and hide her face; but her eyes twinkled with mirth, as her father turned towards her, and sat rubbing his stiff grey hair.

The doctor's plan of bringing up a boy chosen from the workhouse had certainly failed, she thought, so far as this lad was concerned; and as the little prisoner stood tightly held, but making all the use he could of his eyes, he said, pointing to a gla.s.s shade over a group of wax fruit--

"Is them good to eat!"

"No," said Helen, smiling.

"I say, do you have skilly for breakfast!"

"I do not know what skilly is," replied Helen.

"Then, I'll tell you. It's horrid. They beats up pailfuls of oatmeal in a copper, and ladles it out. But it's better than nothing."

"Ahem!" coughed the doctor, who was thinking deeply.

The boy glanced at him sharply, and then turned again to Helen--

"You mustn't ask for anything to eat at the House if you're ever so hungry."

"Are you hungry?" said Helen.

"Just!"

"Would you like a piece of cake!"

"Piece o' cake? Please. Here, let go."

He shook himself free from the doctor and ran to Helen.

"Sit down on that cus.h.i.+on, and I'll ring for some."

"What, have you got a big bell here? Let me pull it, will you?"

"It is not a big bell, but you may pull it," said Helen, crossing to the fireplace. "There, that will do."

She led the way back to the chair where she had been seated, and in spite of herself felt amused and pleased at the way in which the boy's bright curious eyes examined her, for, outside of his school discipline, the little fellow acted like a small savage, and was as full of eager curiosity.

"I say," he said, "how do you do your hair like that? It is nice."

Just then Maria entered the room.

"Bring up the cake, Maria, and a knife and plate--and--stop--bring a gla.s.s of milk."

"Yes, miss," said Maria, staring hard at the boy with anything but favourable eyes.

"I say, do you drink milk?" said the boy.

"Sometimes. This is for you."

"For me? Oh, I say! But you'll put some water to it, won't you!"

"No; you can drink it as it is. No, no! Stop!"

Helen Grayson was too late; in the exuberance of his delight the boy relieved his excited feelings by turning the wheel again round the room, stopping, though, himself, as he reached the place where the doctor's daughter was seated. "Well, why do you look at me like that?"

"I d'know. Feels nice," said the boy. "I say, is that round-face gal your sister?"

"Oh no; she's the servant."

"I'm glad of that," said the boy thoughtfully; "she won't eat that cake, will she!"

Helen compressed her lips to control her mirth, and glanced at her father again, where he sat with his brow knit and lips pursed up thinking out his plans.

Maria entered now with the cake and milk, placing a tray on a little table, and going out to return to the housekeeper, saying--

"Pretty pa.s.s things is coming to when servants is expected to wait on workus boys."

In the drawing-room the object of her annoyance was watching, with sparkling eyes, the movements of the knife with which Helen Grayson cut off a goodly wedge of the cake.

"There," she said; "eat that, and sit quite still."

The boy s.n.a.t.c.hed the piece wolfishly, and was lifting it to his mouth, but he stopped suddenly and stretched out his hand--

"Here; you have first bite," he said.

Helen shook her head, but felt pleased.

"No," she said. "It is for you."

"Do," said the boy, fighting hard with the longing to begin.