The days glided by and John Grange's powers developed in a wonderful
way. He busied himself about the glass-houses from morning to night,
but he did not return to the bothy in the grounds, preferring to go on
lodging with old Hannah and her husband.
At first the men used to watch him, leaving off their work to talk
together when he passed down the garden, and first one and then another
stood ready to lend him a helping hand; but this never seemed to be
needed, Grange making sure by touching a wall, fence, shrub, or some
familiar object whose position he knew, and then walking steadily along
with no other help than a stick, and finding his way anywhere about the
grounds.
"It caps me, lads!" said old Tummus; "but there, I dunno: he allus was
one of the clever ones. Look at him now; who'd ever think that he was
blind as a mole? Why, he walks as upright as I do."
There was a roar of laughter at this.
"Well, so he do," cried old Tummus indignantly.
"That ain't saying much, old man," said one of the gardeners; "why, you
go crawling over the ground like a rip-hook out for a walk."
"Ah, never mind," grumbled old Tummus, "perhaps if you'd bent down to
your work as I have, you'd be as much warped. Don't you get leaving
tools and barrers and garden-rollers all over the place now."
"Why not?"
"'Cause we, none on us, want to see that poor lad fall over 'em, and
break his legs. Eh?"
No one did; and from that hour a new form of tidiness was observed in
Mrs Mostyn's garden.
Daniel Barnett said very little, but quite avoided Grange, who accepted
the position, divining as he did the jealous feeling of his new
superior, and devoted himself patiently to such tasks as he could
perform, but instinctively standing on his guard against him whom he
felt to be his enemy.
A couple of months had gone by when, one day, Mrs Mostyn came upon
Grange in the conservatory, busily watering various plants which a touch
had informed him required water.
"Do you think it would hurt some of the best orchids to make a good
stand full of them here for a couple of days, Grange?" said his
mistress. "I have a friend coming down who takes a great deal of
interest in these plants."
"There is always the risk of giving them a check, ma'am," said Grange
quietly; "but if you wouldn't mind the place being kept rather close,
and a little fire being started to heat the pipes, they would be quite
right."
"Oh, do what you think best," said Mrs Mostyn, "and make me a good
handsome show by the day after to-morrow. Just there, between these two
windows."
"If you'll excuse me, ma'am, they would be better on the other side
against the house. They would show off better, and be less likely to
get a check if a window was opened, as might happen."
"Of course, John Grange. Then put them there. I want a good, brilliant
show, mind, to please my friend."
"They shall be there, ma'am. I'll get a stand cleared at once, ma'am,
and put the orchids on to-morrow."
By that evening one of the large stands was clear, all but a few flowers
to keep it from looking blank, and late on the next afternoon Daniel
Barnett encountered old Tummus.
"Hullo, where are you going with that long barrow?"
"Orchid-house, to fetch pots."
"What for?"
"Muster Grange wants me to help him make up a stand in the zervyturry."