"In his room," replied Helen, "and--"

"Well--well!" said the doctor impatiently.

"Oh no, father dear," said Helen quietly, but with more emotion in her voice than even she knew. "We must not send him back."

Then she told what had pa.s.sed, 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 clear away.

"Not yet, Maria," said Helen quietly. "Take that chicken back, and ask Mrs 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 dabbed them down on the kitchen table, almost hard enough to produce cracks, as she delivered her message to Mrs Millett, who looked annoyed.

"You can do as you please, Mrs Millett," said Maria, giving herself a jerk as if a string inside her had been pulled; "but I'm a-going to look out for a new place."

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

MASTER GRAYSON GOES FOR A WALK.

"Couldn't have believed it," said the doctor one evening, when a week had pa.s.sed away. "It's wonderful." Helen smiled.

"A whole week, and the young dog's behaviour has been even better than I could wish. Well, it's very hopeful, and I am extremely glad, Helen, extremely glad."

Helen said nothing, but she thought a good deal, and, among other things, she wondered how Dexter would have behaved if he had been left to himself. Consequently, she felt less sanguine than the doctor.

The fact was that she had given up everything to devote the whole of her time to the boy, thus taking care that he was hardly ever left to himself.

She read to him, and made him read to her, and battled hard to get him out of his schoolboy tw.a.n.g.

Taken by his bright, handsome face, and being clever with her brush, she had made him sit while she painted his likeness; that is, she tried to make him sit, but it was like dealing with so much quicksilver, and she was fain to give up the task as an impossibility after scolding, coaxing, and bribing, coming to the conclusion that the boy could not keep still.

She played games with him; and at last risked public opinion very bravely by taking the boy out with her for a walk, when one of the first persons she met was Lady Danby.

"I say, what did she mean!" said Dexter, as they walked away.

"That lady--Lady Danby!"

"Yes. Why did she look sorry for me, and call me a _protege_?"

"Oh," said Helen, smiling; "it is only a French word for any one who is adopted or protected, as papa is protecting you."

"But is it a funny word!"

"Funny? Oh dear no!"

"Then why did she laugh, curious like?"

Helen could not answer that question.

"She looked at me," said Dexter, "as if she didn't like me. I've seen ladies look like that when they've come to see the schools, and us boy's used to feel as if we'd like to throw slates at them."

"You have no occasion to trouble yourself about other people's opinions, Dexter," said Helen quietly; "and of course now you couldn't throw stones or anything else at a lady."

"No; but I could at a boy. I could hit that chap ever so far off. Him as was with that Lady Danby."

"Oh, nonsense! come along; we'll go down by the river."

"Yes; come along," cried Dexter excitedly; "but I don't see why he should sneer at me for nothing."

"What? Master Danby!"

"Yes, him. All the time you two were talking, he kept walking round me, and making faces as if I was physic."

"You fancied it, Dexter."

"Oh no, I didn't. I know when anybody likes me, and when anybody doesn't. Lady Danby didn't like me, and she give a sneery laugh when she called me a _protege_, and when you weren't looking that chap made an offer at me with the black cane he carried, that one with a silver top and black ta.s.sels."

"Did he?"

"Didn't he just! I only wish he had. I'd ha' given him such a oner.

Why, I could fight two like him with one hand tied behind me."

Helen's face grew cloudy with trouble, but she said nothing then, only hurried the boy along toward the river.

In spite of her determination she avoided the town main street, and struck off by the narrow turning which led through the old churchyard, with its grand lime-tree avenue and venerable church, whose crocketed spire was a landmark for all the southern part of the county.

"Look, look!" cried Dexter. "See those jackdaws fly out? There's one sitting on that old stone face. See me fetch him down."

"No, no," cried Helen, catching his arm. "You might break a window."

"No, I wouldn't. You see."

"But why throw at the poor bird? It has done you no harm."

"No, but it's a jackdaw, and you always want to throw stones at jackdaws."

"And at blackbirds and thrushes and starlings too, Dexter?" said Helen.

The boy looked guilty.

"You didn't see me throw at them?"