"I am very deeply grieved, Mr Manning," said Mrs Mostyn, as she sat in
her drawing-room, holding a kind of consultation with the doctor and
James Ellis, her old agent, and as she spoke, the truth of her words was
very evident, for she kept applying her handkerchief to her eyes. "I
liked John Grange. A frank, manly fellow, whose heart was in his work,
and I fully intended, Ellis, that he should succeed poor old Dunton."
"Yes, ma'am; a most worthy young man," said the bailiff.
"Worthy? He was more than that. He was fond of his work and proud of
the garden. Go in that conservatory, doctor, and look at my orchids.
His skill was beyond question."
"Your flowers are the envy of the county, Mrs Mostyn," said the doctor.
"Ah, well! It is not my flowers in question, but this poor fellow's
future. Do you mean to tell me that you can do nothing for him?"
"I regret to say that I must," said the doctor gravely. "We try all we
can to master Nature's mechanism, but I frankly confess that we are
often very helpless. In this case the terrible shock of the fall on the
head seems to have paralysed certain optical nerves. Time may work
wonders, but I fear that his sight is permanently destroyed."
"Oh, dear, dear, dear!" sighed Mrs Mostyn, down whose pleasant old face
the tears now coursed unchecked; "and all to satisfy my whims--all
because I objected to a ragged, broken branch. But, doctor, can nothing
be done?"
"I can only recommend one thing, madam--that he should go up to one of
the specialists, who will suggest that he should stay in his private
infirmary."
"Well, why not?" said Mrs Mostyn eagerly.
"There is the expense, madam," said the doctor hesitatingly.
"Expense? Pooh! Fudge! People say I am very mean. Poor old Dunton
used to say so, and James Ellis here."
"I beg your pardon, ma'am--" began the bailiff.
"Oh, don't deny it, James; you know you have. I heard of it over and
over again, because I would not agree to some extravagant folly proposed
by you or poor old Dunton for the estate or garden."
"But--"
"Silence! I remember Dunton said I could spend hundreds on new orchids,
and stinted him in help; and you were quite angry because I wouldn't
have half-a-mile of new park palings, when the old mossy ones look
lovely. But I'm not mean, doctor, when there is a proper need for
outlay. Now you go at once and make arrangements for that poor young
man to be taken up to town and placed in this institution. Mind, you
are to spare no expense. It was my fault that poor Grange lost his
sight, and I shall never love my garden again if his eyes are not
restored."
The doctor rose, shook hands, and went away, leaving the bailiff with
his mistress, who turned to him with her brow all in puckers.
"Well, James Ellis, I hardly know what to say. It is a dreadful shock,
and I don't like to do anything hastily. If there was a prospect of
poor Grange recovering I would wait."
The bailiff shook his head.
"Doctor Manning told me, ma'am, that he was afraid it was hopeless."
"And I'm afraid so too," said Mrs Mostyn, with a sigh.
"I can't superintend the garden myself, ma'am."
"No, Ellis, you have too much to do."
"And gardens are gardens, ma'am--ours in particular."
"Yes," said Mrs Mostyn, who was thinking of the poor fellow lying at
the bothy in darkness.
"And with all those glass-houses and their valuable contents, a day's
neglect is never recovered."
"No, James Ellis."
"The men, too, want some one over them whom they must obey."
"Of course--of course, Ellis. And you think Daniel Barnett is quite
equal to the duties?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am. He is quite as good a gardener as John Grange, so I
don't think you could do better, ma'am. You see we know him, that he is
trustworthy and clever."
"Well, well, I'll think about it. I will not decide this morning; but I
suppose it will have to be so. I can't go appointing another man
directly the breath is out of poor old Dunton's body, and with that poor
fellow lying there in misery. Come to me this day week, James Ellis,
and I will give my decision."
The bailiff bowed and withdrew, to go straight to the gardens, where,
quite by accident, of course, Daniel Barnett came along one of the
paths, and met him, looking at him inquiringly; but Ellis did not say a
word about the subject nearest then to the young man's heart. He asked
how the grapes were looking, and had a peep at them and the melons.
Then went on through the orchid-houses, reeking with heat and moisture,
and at last stood still wiping his head in the hot sunshine.
"They do you credit, Barnett," he said. "I'm very glad to see how you
have thrown yourself into the gap, and managed now poor John Grange is
down; everything looks perfect. I see you have kept the men up to their
work."
"Done my best, Mr Ellis, of course," said the young man.
"Of course, of course. I told Mrs Mostyn I was sure you would. There,
I must be off. Good-morning."
He started off for the gate, and then turned.
"Oh, by the way, Barnett, poor John Grange is to be sent up to town. I
thought you would like to hear. But don't say a word to him, and--er--
I'm always at home of an evening if you care to step up and have a quiet
pipe with me, and a bit of music before supper. Good-morning."
"The wind's changed," said Dan Barnett, with his face flushed up by the
exultation he felt. "I'm safe two ways. Poor old Jack Grange! Well,
we can't all win."