"Hang his impudence!" said the doctor. "What do you think he told me?"
"Sir James?"
"Yes, my dear. Told me I was a regular modern Frankenstein, and that I
had made a young monster to worry me to death. Such insolence!
Dexter's growing a very nice lad, and I feel as if I could make a
nobleman of him if I liked, but I think I'll send him to a good school
for a bit. You see, he's full of promise, Helen."
"Yes, papa," said Helen, suppressing her mirth.
"Ah! now you are laughing at me. I mean full of the promise that will
some day mean performance. But--yes, I will send him to a good school."
A good school was selected, and Dexter duly sent down to it, leaving
Helen very unwillingly, but holding up manfully, and the doctor said he
would come back at the holiday-time vastly improved.
In six weeks Dr Grayson received a letter asking him to fetch Dexter
away to save him from being expelled.
The Doctor looked very angry as he went down to Cardley Willows, and the
inquiries took a stern, rather bitter turn.
"Has the boy been a young blackguard?" he said.
"No," said the principal.
"Dishonest?"
"Oh dear no!"
"Well, what is it then--disobedient!"
"Oh dear no! He'll promise anything."
"Humph! yes," said the doctor to himself.
"I'm very sorry, Dr Grayson," continued the principal; "but the boy is
incorrigible, and you must take him away."
The doctor took the boy away, and he had a very stern talking-to at
home.
Two months passed away.
"There, Helen," said the doctor one morning; "what do you say to him
now? Wonderfully improved, has he not? Good natural boy's colour in
his cheeks--better blood, you see, and nice curly hair. Really he is
not like the same."
"No, papa; he is greatly changed," said Helen, as she followed the
direction of her father's eyes to where Dexter was out on the lawn
watching old Dan'l, while old Dan'l, in a furtive manner, was diligently
watching him in return.
"Greatly changed," said the doctor thoughtfully, as he scratched the
side of his nose with his penholder, "in personal appearance. Sir James
seems very sore still about that little affair. Says I ought to have
thrashed Dexter, for he behaved brutally to young Edgar."
"And what did you say, papa?"
"Well, not exactly all I thought. Dreadful young limb that Edgar.
Spoiled boy, but I could not tell Danby so with such a catalogue of
offences as Master Dexter has to show on my black list. You see, Helen,
we do not get any further with him."
Helen shook her head sadly.
"There's something wrong in his brain; or something wanting. He'll
promise amendment one hour, and go and commit the same fault the very
next."
"It is very sad," replied Helen thoughtfully; "but I'm sure he means
well."
"Yes, my dear; of course," said the doctor, looking perplexed; "but it's
a great drawback to one's success. But there: we must persevere. It
seems to me that the first thing to do is to wean him from that terrible
love of low companions."
"Say companion," said Helen, smiling.
"Well, a companion, then. I wish we could get that young fishing
scoundrel sent away; but of course one cannot do that. Oh, by the way,
what about Maria? Is she going away?"
"No," said Helen. "I had a long talk to her about her unreasoning
dislike to Dexter, and she has consented to stay."
"Well, it's very kind of her," said the doctor testily. "I suppose Mrs
Millett will be giving warning next."
"Oh no," said Helen; "she finds a good deal of fault, but I think, on
the whole, she feels kindly toward the poor boy."
"Don't!" cried the doctor, giving the writing-table so angry a slap with
his open hand that a jet of ink shot out of the stand and made half a
dozen great splashes. "Now, look there, what you've made me do," he
continued, as he began hastily to soak up the black marks with
blotting-paper. "I will not have Dexter called `the poor boy.' He is
not a poor boy. He is a human waif thrown up on life's shore. No, no:
and you are not to call him a human waif. I shall well educate him, and
place him on the high-road toward making his way properly in life as a
gentleman should, and I'll show the whole world that I'm right."
"You shall, papa," said Helen merrily; "and I will help you all I can."
"I know you will, my dear, and you are helping me," cried the doctor
warmly; "and it's very good of you. But I do wish we could make him
think before he does anything. His mischievous propensities are simply
horrible. And now, my dear, about his education. We must do something
more, if it is only for the sake of keeping him out of trouble. You are
doing nobly, but that is not enough. I did mean to read classics with
him myself, but I have no time. My book takes too much thought. Now, I
will not send the poor boy--"
"`Poor boy,' papa!" said Helen merrily.
"Eh? Did I say `poor boy'!" cried the doctor, scratching his nose
again.
"Yes."
"Ah, well; I did not mean it. I was going to say I will not send him to
another school. He would be under too many disadvantages, so I think we
will decide upon a private tutor."
"Yes, papa; a very excellent arrangement."
"Yes, I think it is; and--well, Maria, what is it!"
"Dan'l, sir," said that young lady, who spoke very severely, as if she
could hardly contain her feelings; "and he'd be glad to know if you
could see him a minute."
"Send him in, Maria," said the doctor; and then, as the housemaid left
the room, "Well, it can't be anything about Dexter now, because he is
out there on the--"
The doctor's words were delivered more and more slowly as he rose and
walked toward the open window, while Helen felt uneasy, and full of
misgivings.
"Why, the young dog was here just now," cried the doctor angrily. "Now,
really, Helen, if he has been at any tricks this time, I certainly will
set up a cane."
"O papa!"
"Yes, my dear, I certainly will, much as I object to corporal
punishment. Well, Daniel, what is it!"
Old Dan'l had a straw hat in his hand--a hat that was rather ragged at
the edge, and with which, as if it was to allay some irritation, he kept
sawing one finger.
"Beg pardon, sir--pardon, Miss," said Dan'l apologetically; "but if I
might speak and say a few words--"
"Certainly, Daniel; you may do both," said the doctor.
"Thanky, sir--thanky kindly, Miss," said the gardener, half-putting his
hat on twice so as to have it in the proper position for making a bow;
"which I'm the last man in the world, sir, to make complaints."
"Humph!" ejaculated the doctor.
"Serving you as I have now for over twenty year, and remembering
puffickly well, Miss, when you was only a pink bit of a baby, as like
one o' my tender carnations as could be, only more like a Count dee
Parish rose."
"Well, what's the matter, Daniel?" said the doctor hastily, for he
wanted to bring the old man's prosings to an end.
"Well, sir, heverythink, as you may say, is the matter. Look at me,
sir; I've suffered more in that garden than mortal man would believe!"
"Oh, have you!" said the doctor, taking off his glasses. "You don't
look so very bad, Daniel, for a man of sixty-five."
"Sixty-four and three-quarters, begging your pardon, sir; but I have
suffered. I've laid awake nights and nights thinking of what was best
for planting them borders with s'rubs, as is now a delight to the human
eye; and I've walked that garden hundreds o' nights with a lanthorn in
search o' slugs, as comes out o' they damp meadows in in counted
millions; and I've had my cares in thrips and red spider and green fly,
without saying a word about scale and them other blights as never had no
name. But never in my life--never in all my born days--never since I
was first made a gardener, have I suffered anythink like as I've
suffered along o' that there boy."
"Nonsense, Daniel! nonsense!" cried the doctor pettishly.
"Well, sir, I've served you faithful, and took such a pride in that
there garden as never was, and you may call it nonsense, sir, but when I
see things such as I see, I say it's time to speak."
"Why, you are always coming to me with some petty complaint, sir, about
that boy."
"Petty complaint, sir!" cried Dan'l indignantly. "Is Ribstons a petty
complaint--my chycest Ribstons, as I want for dessert at Christmas? And
is my Sturmer pippins a petty complaint--them as ought to succeed the
Ribstons in Febbery and March?"
"Why, what about them?" cried the doctor.
"Oh, nothing, sir; only as half the town's t'other side o' the river,
and my pippins is being shovelled over wholesale."
The doctor walked out into the hall and put on his hat, with Dan'l
following him; and, after a moment's hesitation, Helen took up a
sunshade, and went down the garden after her father.
She overtook him as he was standing by a handsome espalier, dotted with
the tawny red-streaked Ribstons, while Dan'l was pointing to a couple of
newly-made footmarks.
"Humph! Not all gone, then?" said the doctor, frowning.
"Not yet!" growled Dan'l. "And see there, Miss; there was four stunners
on that there little branch this mornin', and they're all gone!"
"Where is Master Dexter?" said the doctor.
Dan'l made a jerking motion with his thumb over his right shoulder, and
the doctor walked on over the grass toward the bottom of the grounds.
The little party advanced so noiselessly that they were unheard, and in
another minute they were near enough to hear Dexter exclaim--
"Now, then; this time--catch!"
The doctor stopped short in time to see, according to Dan'l's version,
the Ribstons and Sturmers thrown across the river to half the town.
"Half the town," according to Dan'l, consisted of Bob Dimsted, who had
laid down his rough fishing-rod, and was holding half an apple in one
hand, munching away the while, as he caught another deftly; and he was
in the act of stuffing it into his pocket as he caught sight of the
doctor, and stood for a few moments perfectly motionless. Then,
stooping quickly, he gathered up his tackle and ran.
"What's the matter!" cried Dexter.
Bob made no reply, but ran off; and as he did so, Dexter laughingly took
another apple from his pocket--a hard green Sturmer pippin, which he
threw with such force and accuracy that it struck Bob right in the
middle of the back, when the boy uttered a cry of alarm, ran more
swiftly, and Dexter stood for a moment roaring with laughter, and then
turned to find himself face to face with the trio who had come down the
garden.
"And them pippins worth twopence apiece at Christmas, sir!" cried Dan'l.
"What are you doing, Dexter!" cried the doctor sternly.
"I was only giving him an apple or two," said the boy, after a few
moments' hesitation.
"Come in, sir," cried the doctor.
"A month's notice, if you please, sir, from to-day," said Dan'l,
frowning angrily; but no one paid any heed to him, for the doctor had
laid his hand upon Dexter's shoulder, and marched him off.
"And I've never said nothing yet about our bees," grumbled Dan'l. "A
young tyke! Raddled 'em up with a long stick on purpose to get me stung
to death, he did, as is a massy I warn't. Well, a month to-day. Either
he goes or I do. Such whims, to have a boy like that about the place.
Well, I'm glad I've brought it to a head, for the doctor won't part with
me."
"Now, sir," said the doctor, as he seated himself in his chair, and
Helen took up her work, carefully keeping her eyes off Dexter, who
looked at her appealingly again and again. "Now, sir, what have you to
say for yourself?"
Dexter looked at the doctor, and his countenance was so unpleasantly
angry that the ceiling, the floor, and the various objects around seemed
preferable, and were carefully observed in turn.
"Do you hear, sir? What have you to say for yourself!"
"What about?" faltered Dexter at last.
"What about, sir? Just as if you did not know! Weren't you forbidden
to touch those apples!"
"Only by Daniel, sir; and he said I was never to touch any fruit at all;
but you said I might."
"Yes--I did. I said you might have some fruit."
"Apples is fruit," said Dexter.
"_Are_ fruit--_are_ fruit, sir," cried the doctor, in an exasperated
tone.
"Apples _are_ fruit," said Dexter.
"But I did not tell you to pick my choice pippins and throw them across
the river to every blackguard boy you see."
"But he hasn't got a beautiful garden like we have," protested Dexter.
"What has that got to do with it, sir?" cried the doctor angrily. "I
don't grow fruit and keep gardeners on purpose to supply the wants of
all the little rascals in the place."
"He asked me to get him some apples, sir."
"Asked you to get him some, indeed! Look here, sir; I've tried very
hard to make you a decent boy by kindness, but it does no good. You
were told not to associate with that boy any more."
"Please, sir, I didn't," cried Dexter. "I didn't, indeed, sir."
"What? Why, I saw you talking to him, and giving him fruit."
"Please, sir, I couldn't help it. I didn't 'sociate with him; he would
come and 'sociate with me."
"Bah!" ejaculated the doctor.
"And he said if I didn't give him some apples and pears he'd come and
stand in front of the windows here and shout `workus' as loud as he
could."
"I shall have to send the police after him," said the doctor fiercely;
"and as for you, sir, I've quite made up my mind what to do. Kind words
are thrown away. I shall now purchase a cane--and use it."
"Oh, I say, don't," cried Dexter, giving himself a writhe, as he
recalled sundry unpleasant interviews with Mr Sibery. "It does hurt
so, you don't know; and makes black marks on you afterwards, just as if
it had been dipped in ink."
Helen bent down over the work she had taken up.
"Don't?" said the doctor sharply. "Then what am I to do, sir? Words
are of no use. I did hope that you were going to be a better and more
tractable boy."
"Well, but ain't I?" said Dexter, looking puzzled, and rubbing his curly
head.
"Better? No, sir; much worse."
Dexter rubbed his head again thoughtfully.
"I haven't torn my clothes this week, and I haven't been down on my
knees; and I haven't been on the top of the wall, and I did want to ever
so badly."
"No, Dexter; but you climbed right to the top of the big pear-tree,"
said Helen quickly; "and it was a terribly dangerous thing to do."
"Now you've begun at me!" said the boy in a lachrymose tone. "I'm
afraid I'm a regular bad one, and you'd better send me back again."
The doctor looked at Helen, and she returned the glance with a very
serious aspect, but there was a merry light in her eyes, as she saw her
father's discomfiture.
He read her looks aright, and got up from his seat with an impatient
ejaculation.
"I'm going out, my dear," he said shortly.
"Are you going to get a cane!" cried Dexter excitedly. "I say, don't,
and I will try so hard to do what you want."
"I was not going to buy a cane, sir," said the doctor, who was
half-angry, half-amused by the boy's earnestness. "One of my
walking-sticks would do very well when I give you a good sound
thrashing. Here, Helen, my dear, you can speak to Dexter a bit. I will
have another talk to him to-night."
The doctor left the room, and Dexter stood listening as his step was
heard in the hall. Then the door closed, and Helen bent thoughtfully
over her work, while the boy stood first on one foot, then on the other,
watching her. The window was open, the sun shone, and the garden with
its lawn and bright flowers looked wonderfully tempting, but duty and
the disgrace he was in acted as two chains to hold the boy there.
"I say," he said at last.
"Yes, Dexter," said Helen, looking up at him sadly.
"Oh, I say, don't look at me like that," he cried.
"You force me to, Dexter," she said gravely.
"But ain't you going to talk to me!"
"If I talk to you, it will only be to scold you very severely."
Dexter sighed.
"Well," he said, after a pause, during which he had been gazing intently
in the earnest eyes before him; "you've got to do it, so let's have it
over. I was always glad when I had been punished at school."
"Glad, Dexter?"
"Yes, glad it was over. It was the worst part of it waiting to have
your whack!"
"Do you want to oblige me, Dexter?" said Helen, wincing at the boy's
words.
"Yes, of course I do. Want me to fetch something?"
"No. Once more I want you to promise to leave off some of those
objectionable words."
"But it's of no use to promise," cried the boy, with a look of angry
perplexity. "I always break my word."
"Then why do you!"
"I dunno," said Dexter. "There's something in me I think that makes me.
You tell me to be a good boy, and I say I will, and I always mean to
be; but somehow I can't. I think it's because nobody likes me,
because--because--because I came from there."
"Do I behave to you as if I did not like you?" said Helen reproachfully.
The boy was on his knees beside her in a moment, holding her hand
against his cheek as he looked up at her with his lip working, and a
dumb look of pitiful pleading in his eyes.
"I do not think I do, Dexter."
He shook his head, and tried to speak. Then, springing up suddenly, he
ran out of the study, dashed upstairs, half-blind with the tears which
he was fighting back, and then with his head down through the open door
into his bedroom, when there was a violent collision, a shriek followed
by a score more to succeed a terrific crash, and when in alarm Helen and
Mrs Millet ran panting up, it was to find Dexter rubbing his head, and
Maria seated in the middle of the boy's bedroom with the sherds of a
broken toilet pail upon the floor, and an ewer lying upon its side, and
the water soaking into the carpet.
"What is the matter?" cried Helen.
"I won't--I won't--I declare I won't put up with it no longer!" cried
the maid in the intervals of sundry sobs and hysterical cries.
"But how did it happen!" said Mrs Millet.
"It's--sit's--sit's--sit's--sit's--sit's--his tricks again," sobbed
Maria.
"Dexter!" cried Helen.
"Yes--es--Miss--es--ma'am," sobbed Maria. "I'd dide--I'd dide--I'd--
just half--half--half filled the war--war--war--ter--jug, and he ran--
ran--ran at me with his head--dead in the chest--and then--then--then--
then knocked me dud--dud--dud--down, and I'll go at once, I will--
there."
"Dexter," said Helen sternly; "was this some trick?"
"I don't know," said the boy sadly. "I s'pose so."
"But did you run at Maria and try to knock her down?"
"No," said Dexter. "I was going into my room in a hurry, and she was
coming out."
"He did it o' purpose, Miss," cried Maria viciously.
"That will do, Maria," said Helen with dignity. "Mrs Millet, see that
these broken pieces are removed. Dexter, come down to the drawing-room
with me."
Dexter sighed and followed, feeling the while that after all the Union
School was a happy place, and that he certainly was not happy here.
"It is very unfortunate that you should meet with such accidents,
Dexter," said Helen, as soon as they were alone.
"Yes," he said piteously, "ain't it? I say--"
"Well, Dexter!"
"It's no good. I know what he wants to do. He said he wanted to make a
gentleman of me, but you can't do it, and I'd better be 'prenticed to a
shoemaker, same as lots of boys have been."
Helen said nothing, but looked at the boy with a troubled gaze, as she
wondered whether her father's plan was possible.
"You had better go out in the garden again, Dexter," she said after a
time.
The trouble had been passing off, and Dexter leaped up with alacrity;
but as he reached the window he saw Dan'l crossing the lawn, and he
stopped short, turned, and came back to sit down with a sigh.
"Well, Dexter," said Helen, "why don't you go?"
He gave her a pitiful look which went right to her heart, as he said
slowly--
"No. I shan't go. I should only get into trouble again."