Quicksilver Part 91

"--he would have gone up to bed to-night careless and indifferent after shedding a few fict.i.tious tears--"

"Very likely."

"--and be sleeping heartily by now."

"As he is, I'll be bound," cried the doctor energetically.

"Of course, I may be wrong," said Helen, "but Dexter strikes me as being so sensitive a boy--so easily moved, that, I am ready to say, I am sure that he is lying there half-heartbroken, crying bitterly, now he is alone."

"I'll soon prove that," said the doctor sharply; and, crossing the room in his slippers, he silently lit a candle and went upstairs to Dexter's door, where he stood listening for a few minutes, to find that all was perfectly still. Then turning the handle quietly, he entered, and it was quite half an hour before he came out.

"Well, papa?" said Helen, as the doctor returned to the drawing-room.

"You're a witch, my dear," he said.

"I was right?"

"You always are, my dear."

"And you will not send him back to the Union schools!"

"Send him back!" said the doctor contemptuously.

"Nor have him apprenticed?" said Helen, with a laughing light in her eyes.

"Have him ap--Now that's too bad, my dear," cried the doctor. "Danby will laugh at me enough. You need not join in. Poor boy! I'm glad I went up."

There was a pause, during which the doctor sat back in his chair.

"Do you know, my dear, I don't feel very sorry that the young dog went off."

"Not feel sorry, papa!"

"No, my dear. It shows that the young rascal has plenty of energy and spirit and determination."

"I hope you did not tell him so!"

"My dear child, what do you think me?" cried the doctor testily. "By the way, though, he seems to thoroughly see through his companion's character now. I can't help wis.h.i.+ng that he had given that confounded young cad a sound thras.h.i.+ng."

"Papa!"

"Eh? No, no: of course not," said the doctor. "I was only thinking aloud."

Helen sat over her work a little longer, feeling happier than she had felt since Dexter left the house; and then the lights were extinguished, and father and daughter went up to bed.

The doctor was very quiet and thoughtful, and he stopped on the stairs.

"Helen, my dear," he whispered, "see the women-servants first thing in the morning, and tell them I strictly forbid any allusion whatever to be made to Dexter's foolish prank."

Helen nodded.

"I'll talk to the men myself," he said. "And whatever you do, make Mrs Millett hold her tongue. Tut--tut--tut! Now, look at that!"

He pointed to a tumbler on a little papier-mache tray standing at Dexter's door.

"Never mind that, dear," said Helen, smiling. "I dare say it is only camomile-tea, and it shows that the poor boy has not lost his place in dear old Millett's heart."

Helen kissed her father, and stopped at her own door feeling half-amused and half-tearful as she saw the old man go on tiptoe to Dexter's room, where, with the light of the candle s.h.i.+ning on his silver hair and beard, he tapped gently with his knuckles.

"Asleep, Dexter?"

There was a faint "No, sir!" from within.

"Make haste and go to sleep," said the doctor. "Good-night, my boy.

G.o.d bless you!"

Helen saw him smile as he turned away from the door, and it may have been fancy, but she thought she saw a glistening as of moisture in one corner of his eye.

"Poor Dexter!" she said softly, as she entered her room, while the boy, as he lay there in the cool, soft sheets, utterly wearied out, but restless and feverish with excitement, felt the doctor's last words send, as it were, a calm, soothing, restful sensation through his brain, and five minutes later he was sleeping soundly, and dreaming that some one bent over him, and said, "Good-night. G.o.d bless you!" once again.

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

BOB DIMSTED'S MEDICINE.

It was some time before Dexter could summon up courage to go down to the breakfast-room. That he was expected, he knew, for Mrs Millett had been to his door twice, and said first that breakfast was ready, and, secondly, that master was waiting.

When he did go in, he could hardly believe that he had been away, for there was a kiss from Helen, and a frank "Good morning," and shake of the hand from the doctor, not the slightest allusion being made to the past till breakfast was nearly over, when Maria brought in a note.

"Hah! From Limpney," said the doctor. "I sent Peter on to say that Dexter was back, and that I should like the lessons to be resumed this morning."

Dexter's eyes lit up. The idea of being busy over lessons once more seemed delightful.

"Confound his impudence!" said the doctor angrily, as he ran through the note. "Hark here, Helen: 'Mr Limpney's compliments, and he begs to decline to continue the tuition at Dr Grayson's house.'"

Helen made a gesture, and glanced at her father meaningly--

"Eh? Oh! Ah! Yes, my dear. Well, Dexter, you'll have to amuse yourself in the garden this morning. Go and have a few hours' fis.h.i.+ng."

"If you please, sir, I'd rather stay in here if I might, and read."

"No, no, no," said the doctor cheerily. "Fine morning. Get Peter to dig you some worms, and I'll come and look at you presently. It's all right, my boy. We said last night we'd draw a veil over the past, eh?

You go and have a good morning's fis.h.i.+ng."

Dexter was at his side in a moment, had thrust his hand in the doctor's, and then fled from the room.

"Want to show him we've full confidence in him again. Bah, no! That boy couldn't look you in the face and tell you a lie. My dear Helen, I'm as certain of my theory being correct as of anything in the world.