CHAPTER TEN.
DEXTER IS VERY SORRY.
Dexter walked into the doctor's study, and Helen came as rearguardbehind.
"Now, sir," said the doctor sternly, "I suppose you know that I'm verymuch displeased with you."
"Yes, sir, of course you are," said the boy seriously. "I don't wonderat 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 washyour hands, and dress yourself properly. Then come down to me."
Dexter glanced at Helen, but she kept her eyes averted, and the boy wentslowly out, keeping his gaze fixed upon her all the time.
"A young scamp!" said the doctor, as soon as they were alone. "I'mafraid I shall have to send him back."
Helen looked at him.
"I expected him to be a little wild," continued the doctor; "but he isbeyond 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 agreat deal in the boy that is most distasteful, but, on the other hand,I cannot help liking the little fellow."
"Yes; that's just it," cried the doctor. "I feel as if I should like togive him a sound thrashing, but, at the same time, I feel that I couldnot raise a hand against him. What's to be done? Shall I send himback, and choose another?"
"No, no, papa. If you intend to adopt a boy, let us keep this one, andsee what he turns out."
Just then the bell rang for lunch, and a minute after Dexter camerunning down into the room, with a smile, as if nothing was the matter,shining out of his eyes.
"I say, wasn't that the dinner-bell?" he cried. "I am so precioushungry."
"And have you no apologies to make, sir? Aren't you sorry you were somischievous, and broke the top of my vinery?"
"Yes; I'm very sorry, sir; but it was that old chap's fault. He made merun and slip. I say, what would he have done if he had caught me?"
"Punished you, or brought you in to me, sir. Now, then, I've beentalking about sending you back to the workhouse. You are toomischievous for me."
"Send me back!"
"Yes, of course. I want a boy who will be good."
"Well, I will."
"So you said before, but you are not good. You are about as mischievousa young rascal as I ever saw in my life."
"Yes, sir; that's what Mr Sibery used to say," replied the boy quietly."I don't want to be."
"Then why are you, sir?"
The boy shook his head, and looked up at the doctor thoughtfully.
"I suppose it's in me," he said.
Helen bit her lip, and turned away, while her father gave his head afierce rub, as if he was extremely vexed.
"Shall you send me back, sir!" said Dexter at last; and his look wasfull of wistful appeal.
"Well, I shall think about it," said the doctor.
"I don't want to go," said the boy thoughtfully. "You don't want me togo, do you?" he continued, turning to Helen.
"Here, the lunch is getting cold," said the doctor. "Come along."
As he spoke he half-pushed Dexter before him, and pointed to a chair.
The boy hesitated, but a sharp command from the doctor made him scuffleinto his place, after which the grace was said, and the dinner commencedfor Dexter--the lunch for his patron and friend.
Roast fowl most delicately cooked, with a delicious sauce; in additionto that made with bread; and there was an ornamentation round the dishof tempting sausages.
The odour from the steaming dishes was enough to have attracted anycoarsely-fed workhouse boy, just as a flower, brings a bee from afar.
Helen was helped to a couple of choice slices from the breast, and thenthe doctor, looking stern all the while, carved off the liver wing, witha fine long piece of juicy breast adhering, and laid it on a plate, withthe biggest sausage, gravy, and sauce, Maria carrying the plateafterwards to Helen to be well supplied with vegetables.
Then, according to custom, Maria departed with her nose in the air, andher bosom overcharged with indignant remonstrances, which she was goingto let off at Mrs Millett.
The meal was commenced in silence, Dexter taking up his knife and fork,and watching by turns the doctor and Helen, to see how they handledtheirs. Then he cut the sausage in half, just as the doctor had cuthis, and looked hard at him, but the doctor was gazing down at his plateand frowning.
Dexter looked at Helen, but she was gazing at her father, and everythingwas very still in the dining-room, while from without, faintly heard,there came the rippling song of a lark, far away over the meadow acrossthe river.
That fowl smelt delicious, and looked good in the extreme, but Dexterlaid down his knife and fork, and sat perfectly still.
Helen saw everything, but she did not speak, and the annoyance she hadfelt began to diminish, for the boy was evidently suffering keenly.
"Hallo!" said the doctor. "Don't you like chicken!"
The boy started, and looked up at him with a troubled face.
"I say, don't you like chicken, sir!"
Dexter tried to answer, but the words would not come; and he sat therewith the tears gathering in his eyes, though he tried hard to choke hisemotion down.
The doctor was very angry, and sadly disappointed; but he said no more,only went on with his lunch.
"Eat your dinner," said Helen, after a time; and she leant over towardthe boy, and whispered the words kindly.
He gave her a quick, grateful look, but he could not speak.
"Come, sir, eat your dinner," said the doctor at last.
"Please, sir, I can't," the boy faltered.
"Why not?"
Dexter had to make another fight to keep down his tears before he couldsay--
"Please, sir, I never could eat my breakfast when I knew I was going tohave the cane."
The doctor grunted, frowned, and went on eating, while the boy directeda pitiful appealing look at Helen.
"Yes," she said at last, "what do you want?"
"May I go up to that place where I slept last night?"
Helen glanced at her father, who nodded shortly, and went on with hisdinner, while the required permission being given by Helen, the boy rosehastily, and hurried out of the room.
Doctor Grayson was silent for a few minutes, and then he took a glass ofsherry.
"A young scoundrel!" he said. "It's not pleasant to have to say so, butI've made a mistake."
"And are you going to give up your project, papa?" said Helen.
"_No_," he thundered. "Certainly not. It's very awkward, for thatbullet-headed drill-sergeant Hippetts will laugh at me, and say `I toldyou so,' but I shall have to take the boy back."
Helen was silent.
"He told me I should," he continued; "but I would not believe him. Theyoung dog's face attracted me. He looked so frank and ingenuous. ButI'll soon pick out another. My theory is right, and if I have tenthousand obstacles, I'll carry it out, and prove to the world that Iknew what I was at."
Helen went on slowly with her lunch, thinking deeply the while.
"Well?" said the doctor angrily, "why don't you speak? Are youtriumphing over my first downfall!"
Helen looked up at her father, and smiled reproachfully.
"I was thinking about Dexter," she said softly.
"A confounded ungrateful young dog! Taken him from that wretched place,clothed him, offered him a home of which he might be proud, and he turnsupon me like that!"
"It was the act of a high-spirited, mischievous boy," said Helenquietly.
"Mischievous! I should think it was. Confound him! But I'll have nomore of his tricks. Back he goes to the Union, and I'll have onewithout so much spirit."
Helen continued her lunch, and the doctor went on with his, but only toturn pettishly upon his child.
"I wish to goodness you'd say something, Helen," he cried. "It's soexasperating to have every
one keeping silence like that."
Helen looked up and smiled.
"Yes, and that's just as aggravating," said the doctor. "Now you arelaughing at me."
"No, no; I was thinking very seriously about your project."
"One which I mean to carry out, madam."
"Of course, papa," said Helen quietly; "but I would not be damped at theoutset."
"What do you mean, Helen?"
"I mean that I should not take that poor boy back to the life from whichyou have rescued him, just because he has displayed a few pranks, alldue to the exuberance of his nature. Coming from such a place, andmaking such a change, he is sure to feel it strongly. He is, so tospeak, bubbling over with excitement and--"
"Here, stop a moment," said the doctor, in astonishment. "I give up.You had better write that book."
"Not I, papa dear," said Helen, smiling. "And if you are really bentupon this experiment--"
"And I am," said the doctor. "Nothing shall change me."
"Then I think you have selected the very boy."
"You do!" said the doctor excitedly.
"Yes. He is just the wild little savage for you to reclaim."
"But--but a little too bad, Helen?"
"No, papa, I think not; and I think you are not justified in saying bad.I believe he is a very good boy."
"You do?"
"Yes; full of mischief as a boy can be, but very, very affectionate."
"Yes. I think he is," assented the doctor.
"I think he will be very teachable."
"Humph!"
"And it was plain to see that he was touched to the heart with grief atour anger."
"Or is it all his artfulness!"
"Oh no, papa! Certainly not that. The boy is frank and affectionate ascan be."
"Then you think it is possible to make a gentleman of him?"
"If it is possible of any boy whom you could get from the Union, papa."
"And you really think he is frank and tender-hearted?"
Helen pointed to the boy's untouched plate.
"And you would not exchange him for something a little more tractable?"
"I don't think you could. I really begin to like the mischievous littlefellow, and I believe that in a very short time we should see a greatchange."
"You do?"
"Yes; but of course we must be prepared for a great many more outbreaksof this kind."
"Unless I stop them."
"No, no, you must not stop them," said Helen quietly. "These littleebullitions must not be suppressed in that way--I mean with undueseverity."
"Then you really would not take--I mean send him back?"
"No," said Helen. "I think, perhaps, I could help you in all this."
"My dear Helen," cried the doctor eagerly. "My dear child, you don'tknow how pleased you make me. I felt that for your sake I must take himback."
"For my sake?" exclaimed Helen.
"Yes; that it was too bad to expose you to the petty annoyances andtroubles likely to come from keeping him. But if you feel that youcould put up with it till we have tamed him down--"
Helen rose from her chair, and went behind her father's, to lay herhands upon his shoulders, when he took them in his, and crossed themupon his breast, so as to draw her face down over his shoulder.
"My dear father," she said, as she laid her cheek against his, "I don'tknow--I cannot explain, but this boy seems to have won his way with mevery strangely, and I should be deeply grieved if you sent him away."
"My dear Helen, you've taken a load off my mind. There, go and fetchthe poor fellow down. He wanted his dinner two hours ago, and he mustbe starved."
Helen kissed her father's forehead, and went quietly up to Dexter'sroom, listened for a few moments, heard a low sob, and then, softlyturning the handle of the door, she entered, to stand there, quite takenaback.
The boy was crouched in a heap on the floor, sobbing silently, and withhis breast heaving with the agony of spirit he suffered.
For that she was prepared, but the tears rose in her eyes as she graspedanother fact. There, neatly folded and arranged, just as the Unionteaching had prompted him, were the clothes the boy had worn that day,even to the boots placed under the chair, upon which they lay, while theboy had taken out and dressed himself again in his old workhouse livery,his cap lying on the floor by his side.
Helen crossed to him softly, bent over him, and laid her little whitehand upon his head.
The boy sprang to his feet as if he had felt a blow, and stood beforeher with one arm laid across his eyes, as, in shame for his tears, hebent his head.
"Dexter," she said again, "what are you going to do?"
"Going back again," he said hoarsely. "I'm such a bad un. They alwayssaid I was."
"And is that the way to make yourself better?"
"I can't help it," he said, half defiantly. "It's no use to try, andI'm going back."
"To grieve me, and make me sorry that I have been mistaken?"
"Yes," he said huskily, and with his arm still across his eyes. "I'mgoing back, and old Sibery may cut me to pieces," he added passionately."I don't care."
"Look up at me, Dexter," said Helen gently, as she laid her hand uponthe boy's arm. "Tell me," she continued, "which will you do?--go back,or try to be a good boy, and do what you know I wish you to do, andstay!"
He let her arm fall, gazed wildly in her eyes, and then caught her handand dropped upon his knees, sobbing passionately.
"I will try; I will try," he cried, as soon as he could speak. "Take medown to him, and let him cane me, and I won't cry out a bit. I'll takeit all like Bill Jones does, and never make a sound, but don't, don'tsend me away."
Helen Grayson softly sank upon her knees beside the boy, and took him inher arms to kiss him once upon the forehead.
"There, Dexter," she said gently, as she rose. "Now bathe your eyes,dress yourself again, and come downstairs to me in the dining-room, asquickly as you can."
Helen went to her own room for a few moments to bathe her own eyes, andwonder how it was that she should be so much moved, and in so short atime.
The doctor was anxiously awaiting her return.
"Well!" he said; "where is the young scamp!"
"In his room," replied Helen, "and--"
"Well--well!" said the doctor impatiently.
"Oh no, father dear," said Helen quietly, but with more emotion in hervoice than even she knew. "We must not send him back."
Then she told what had passed, and the doctor nodded his head.
"No," he said; "we must not send him back."
Just then there was a knock at the door, and Maria entered to clearaway.
"Not yet, Maria," said Helen quietly. "Take that chicken back, and askMrs Millett to make it hot again."
"And the vegetables, ma'am!"
"Yes. I will ring when we want them."
Maria took the various dishes away with a very ill grace, and dabbedthem down on the kitchen table, almost hard enough to produce cracks, asshe delivered her message to Mrs Millett, who looked annoyed.
"You can do as you please, Mrs Millett," said Maria, giving herself ajerk as if a string inside her had been pulled; "but I'm a-going to lookout for a new place."
Quicksilver: The Boy With No Skid to His Wheel Page 10