"I only meant the blow was bad enough to have killed him. Do you know how serious it is?"

"I know it was a dreadful cut, but it is healing now."

"Cut? The poor dog's skull is fractured. A regular crack. Has he seemed stupid and dull?"

Gertrude could not answer for a few moments for the sob that choked her; and, as the impromptu surgeon looked up in her eyes he saw that they were br.i.m.m.i.n.g over.

"Oh, if they would only weep like that for me," he thought; and directly after, "no, I should be very sorry."

"I--I did not know he was so bad," she faltered.

"But it is mending all right. Yes. Hold still, old fellow; I won't hurt you much. That's right. Oh, yes, he's mending capitally; but it would be better if the hair were cut away a little from the wound.

Knife? No. I suppose you could fetch me a pair of scissors?"

"I have a pair," cried Gertrude eagerly, producing a tiny embroidery pair from a case.

"Capital! but, I say, my great ugly thumb and finger would not go into those holes. Could you--? No, it would be such a nasty task."

"I should not consider it a nasty task to do anything to help my poor dog," she said quickly.

"Then you shall do it. There, cut boldly between my fingers. Don't be afraid. That nasty, matted hair frets the wound. That's right; capital! Now, there again, and there. Hurt, Bruno? Never mind, old chap; don't flinch. That will do."

They were busy together, kneeling on either side of the dog for quite five minutes, before they raised their eyes and looked at each other, their faces only separated by a dog's width, and Gertrude's eyes fell beneath the admiring glance which seemed to thrill her.

"I am very grateful to you for what you have done."

"Don't name it. I am very glad."

"But will he get well?"

"Oh, yes. It will take some little time, of course, but animals have a wonderful faculty for healing up. There, old chap, your case is attended to. No fees and no bills, thank you. Do you know, I believe he understands all about it. Hardly flinched, and I know I must have hurt him a good deal."

"He has always been so patient while I bathed his head, and bandaged the cut."

"Yes; he knows. There, old chap, you'll know me again, eh?"

Bruno licked the hand which took hold of his muzzle, and whined softly.

"See that, Miss Bellwood?"

"Yes, it is his way of thanking you for what you have done."

"No, I think not. It is his way of showing you that I am not an impostor. No dog would make such friends with a rogue."

"Are we not giving him the credit of having too much sense?" said Gertrude archly.

"Ah, well, perhaps so; but I thank him for giving me this interview. I thought I should like a look round the old place--that is why I came down; and--yes, I can't be a sham--I did hope that I might catch a glimpse of you. Good-bye."

He held out his hand again.

"Good-bye," she said slowly and sadly; and she once more timidly placed her hand in his, when he raised it to his lips.

The next moment he was gone, and Bruno uttered a growl, picked up the stick once more, and carried it to the house, Gertrude walking meditatively before him, and asking herself whether she had done right in talking as she had with such a comparative stranger. Her meditations were broken by the voice of Mrs Denton.

"Why, Bruno, good dog, where did you get that stick? Broken too. I've missed that for weeks; it's the one poor dear master used to use when he walked round the garden. Oh, dear, and broken, too. How it does seem to bring him back."

But Bruno refused to part with the broken stick, and carried it with him into the stable, where he laid it in the straw beneath his muzzle.

Someone felt worse and yet better for that walk down the garden.

Perhaps more than one.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

MR BLANK'S THEORY.

Mr Hampton was seated in his dingy office in Lincoln's Inn one morning, when the clerk announced Doctor Lawrence and another gentleman, who were shown in, the old lawyer frowning as he found who the other gentleman was.

"You, sir?" he said rather shortly.

"Yes, my dear executor," said the young man laughing. "I am sorry to be such a nuisance to you, but I am growing impatient."

"Very well, sir; very well; and so am I; and as you have called this morning, let me tell you that you have rewarded my friendly disposition towards you by taking a mean advantage and going down to The Mynns, again and again, like a spy upon the camp."

"Gently, my dear sir, gently. I confess to going down to The Mynns partly by design, but it was by accident I met Miss Bellwood."

"Accident?" exclaimed the old lawyer.

"Yes, sir, accident; and even if it had not been, please have a little mercy. Put yourself in my place. I came over here eager to succeed to my estate, and to see the lady I was to marry. I saw her and I need not say was charmed with my grandfather's choice. There, I say it openly, I love her as the sweetest, most innocent girl I ever met; but instead of all going well, I am greeted as an impostor, and told that the young lady betrothed to me is engaged to another gentleman, my _alter ego_."

"Yes, yes, yes; we know all that, sir, _ad nauseum_," cried the old lawyer.

"Humph! quotation for quotation," muttered Doctor Lawrence.

"You must wait, sir. You must wait."

"My dear Hampton," said the doctor, "don't you think that we might sympathise a little more with our young friend?"

"I do not acknowledge that this gentleman is our friend," said the lawyer sternly.

"No, sir; and it does not seem to me that you are in any hurry to acknowledge me," said the young man laughing.

"Indeed, sir," said the lawyer tartly. "I can only repeat my words--you must wait."

"Can't wait any longer, sir. You could not if you were in my case."