Directly after breakfast he had rushed up to his room and put on the clothes in which he had taken his involuntary bath. These garments, as will be remembered, had been obtained in haste, and were of the kind known in the trade as "ready-mades," and in this case composed of a well-glazed and pressed material, containing just enough wool to hold together a great deal of shoddy.

The dip in the river had been too severe a test for the suit, especially as Maria had been put a little more out of temper than usual by having the garments handed to her to dry.

Maria's mother was a washerwoman who lived outside Coleby on the common, and gained her income by acting as laundress generally for all who would intrust her with their family linen; but she called herself in yellow letters on a brilliant scarlet ground a "clear starcher."

During Maria's early life at home she had had much experience in the ways of washing. She knew the smell of boiled soap. She had often watched the steam rising from the copper, and played among the clouds, and she well knew that the quickest way to dry anything that has been soaked is to give it a good wringing.

She had therefore given Dexter's new suit a good wringing, and wrung out of it a vast quant.i.ty of sticky dye which stained her hands. Then she had--grumbling bitterly all the time--given the jacket, vest, and trousers a good shake, and hung them over a clothes-horse as near to the fire as she could get them without singeing.

Mrs Millett told her to be sure and get them nice and dry, and Maria did get them "nice and dry."

And now Dexter had put them on and presented himself before Helen, suggesting that he looked a guy.

Certainly his appearance was suggestive of the stuffed effigy borne about on the fifth of November, for the garments were shrunken so that his arms and legs showed to a terrible extent, and Maria's wringing had given them curves and hollows never intended by the cutter, the worst one being in the form of a hump between the wearer's shoulders.

"The things are completely spoiled. You foolish boy to put them on."

"Then I can't go to that other house."

"Nonsense! You have the new clothes that came from the tailor's--those for which you were measured."

"Yes," said Dexter reluctantly; "but it's a pity to put on them. I may get 'em spoiled."

"Then you do not want to go, Dexter," said Helen, smiling.

"No," he cried eagerly. "Ask him to let me stop here."

"No, no," said Helen kindly. "Papa wishes you to go there; it is very kind of the Danbys to ask you, and I hope you will go, and behave very nicely, and make great friends with Edgar Danby."

"How?" said Dexter laconically.

"Well, as boys generally do. You must talk to him."

"What about?"

"Anything. Then you must play with him."

"What at?"

"Oh, he'll be sure to suggest something to play at."

"I don't think he will," said Dexter thoughtfully. "He don't look the sort of chap to."

"Don't say chap, Dexter; say boy."

"Sort of boy to play any games. He's what we used to call a soft Tommy sort of a chap--boy."

"Oh no, no, no! I don't suppose he will be rough, and care for boisterous sports; but he may prove to be a very pleasant companion for you."

Dexter shook his head.

"I don't think he'll like me."

"Nonsense! How can you tell that? Then they have a beautiful garden."

"Can't be such a nice one as this," said Dexter.

"Oh yes, it is; and it runs down to the river as this one does, and Sir James has a very nice boat."

"Boat!" cried Dexter, p.r.i.c.king up his ears. "And may you go in it!"

"Not by yourselves, I suppose. There, I'm sure you will enjoy your visit."

Dexter shook his head again.

"I say, you'll come too, won't you?" he cried eagerly.

"No, Dexter; not this time."

The boy's forehead grew wrinkled all over.

"Come, you are pretending that you do not want to go."

"I don't," said the boy, hanging his head. "I want to stay here along with you."

"Perhaps I should like you to stay, Dexter," said Helen; "but I wish you to go and behave nicely, and you can tell me all about it when you come back."

"And how soon may I come back?"

"I don't suppose till the evening, but we shall see. Now, go and change those things directly. What would papa say if he saw you?"

Dexter went slowly up to his room, and came down soon after to look for Helen.

He found her busy writing letters, so he went off on tiptoe to the study, where the doctor was deep in his book, writing with a very severe frown on his brow.

"Ah, Dexter," he said, looking up and running his eye critically over the boy, the result being very satisfactory. "Let's see, you are to be at Sir James's by half-past twelve. Now only ten. Go and amuse yourself in the garden, and don't get into mischief."

Dexter went back into the hall, obtained his cap, and went out through the gla.s.s door into the verandah, where the great wisteria hung a valance of lavender blossoms all along the edge.

"He always says don't get into mischief," thought the boy. "I don't want to get into mischief, I'm sure."

Half-way across the lawn he was startled by the sudden appearance of Dan'l, who started out upon him from behind a great evergreen shrub.

"What are you a-doing of now?" snarled Dan'l.

"I wasn't doing anything," said Dexter, staring.

"Then you were going to do something," cried the old man sharply. "Look here, young man; if you get meddling with anything in my garden there's going to be trouble, so mind that. I know what boys is, so none of your nonsense here."