"Well, never mind that now," said the doctor. "You will have to be very good, and never want the cane. You must learn to be a young gentleman."

"Young gentleman?" said Dexter, holding his head on one side like a bird. "One of them who wears black jackets, and turn-down collars, and tall hats, and plays at cricket all day? I shall like that."

"Humph! Something else but play cricket, I hope," said the doctor quietly. "Helen, my dear, I shall begin to make notes at once for my book, so you can take Dexter in hand, and try how he can read."

The doctor brought out a pocket-book and pencil, and Helen, after a moment's thought, went to a gla.s.s case, and took down an old gift-book presented to her when she was a little girl.

"Come here, Dexter," she said, "and let me hear you read."

The boy flushed with pleasure.

"Yes," he said. "I should like to read to you. May I kneel down and have the book on your knees!"

"Yes, if you like," said Helen, who felt that the boy was gaining upon her more and more: for, in spite of his coa.r.s.eness, there was a frank, merry, innocent undercurrent that, she felt, might be brought to the surface, strengthened and utilised to drive the roughness away.

"Read here!" said the boy, opening the book at random. "Oh, here's a picture. What are these girls doing?"

"Leave the pictures till afterwards. Go on reading now."

"Here?"

"Yes; at the beginning of that chapter."

"I shall have to read it all, as there's no other boy here. We always stand up in a cla.s.s at the House, and one boy reads one bit, and another boy goes on next, and then you're always losing your place, because it's such a long time before it comes round to your turn, and then old Sibery gives you the cane."

"Yes, yes; but go on," said Helen, with a feeling of despair concerning her father's _protege_.

Dexter began to read in a forced, unnatural voice, with a high-pitched unpleasant tw.a.n.g, and regardless of sense or stops--merely uttering the words one after the other, and making them all of the same value.

At the end of the second line Helen's face was a study. At the end of the fourth the doctor roared out--

"Stop! I cannot stand any more. Saw-sharpening or bag-pipes would be pleasant symphonies in comparison."

At that moment Maria entered.

"Lunch is on the table, if you please, sir."

"Ah, yes, lunch," said the doctor. "Did you put a knife and fork for Master Dexter?"

"For who, sir!" said Maria, staring.

"For Master Dexter here," said the doctor sharply. "Go and put them directly."

Maria ran down to her little pantry, and then attacked Mrs Millett.

"Master's going mad, I think," she said. "Why, he's actually going to have that boy at the table to lunch."

"Never!"

"It's a fact," cried Maria; "and I've come down for more knives and forks."

"And you'd better make haste and get 'em, then," said the housekeeper; "master's master, and he always will have his way."

Maria did make haste, and to her wonder and disgust Dexter was seated at the doctor's table in his workhouse clothes, gazing wonderingly round at everything: the plate, cruets, and sparkling gla.s.s taking up so much of his attention that for the moment he forgot the viands.

The sight of a hot leg of lamb, however, when the cover was removed, made him seize his knife and fork, and begin tapping with the handles on either side of his plate.

"Errum!" coughed the doctor. "Put that knife and fork down, Dexter, and wait."

The boy's hands went behind him directly, and there was silence till Maria had left the room, when the doctor began to carve, and turned to Helen--

"May I give you some lamb, my dear?"

"There, I knowed it was lamb," cried Dexter excitedly, "'cause it was so little. We never had no lamb at the House."

"Hush!" said the doctor quietly. "You must not talk like that."

"All right."

"Nor yet like that, Dexter. Now, then, may I send you some lamb!"

"May I say anything?" said the boy so earnestly that Helen could not contain her mirth, and the boy smiled pleasantly again.

"Of course you may, my boy," said the doctor. "Answer when you are spoken to, and try and be polite."

"Yes, sir, I will; I'll try so hard."

"Then may I send you some lamb!"

"Yes; twice as much as you give her. It does smell nice."

The doctor frowned a little, and then helped the boy pretty liberally.

"Oh, I say! Just look at the gravy," he cried. "Have you got plenty, Miss!"

"Oh yes, Dexter," said Helen. "May I--"

"Don't give it all to me, Mister," cried the boy. "Keep some for yourself. I hate a pig."

"Errum!" coughed the doctor, frowning. "Miss Grayson was going to ask if you would take some vegetables!"

"What? taters? No thankye, we got plenty o' them at the House," cried the boy; and he began cutting and devouring the lamb at a furious rate.

"Gently, gently!" cried the doctor. "You have neither bread nor salt."

"Get's plenty o' them at the House," cried the boy, with his mouth full; "and you'd better look sharp, too. The bell'll ring directly, and we shall have to--no it won't ring here, will it!" he said, looking from one to another.

"No, sir," said the doctor sternly; "and you must not eat like that.

Watch how Miss Grayson eats her lunch, and try and imitate her."