GEO TO THE FORE AGAIN.
All through the middle of the day, till six o'clock, Geo Lummis
slept. At three o'clock Nurse Blunt came over to Mildred and
asked her to go to Mrs. Lummis.
"I wouldn't trouble her, Mr. Greenacre," she said, as old Jimmy
began to gabble and grumble, "but I _must_ go to the opposite
side of the of the parish, and Mrs. Lummis is in that stage when
she must be attended to. Your granddaughter will have nothing to
do but give her he brandy and milk at the proper times. She has
done it before, and I can trust her, which is more than I can say
for most of the girls I have had to do with. You'll have to let
her go."
So grandfather made no further demur, and Milly changed her
Sunday gown for a work-a-day one, and went off on her errand of
mercy accompanied by the nurse.
"That young Lummis is there dead asleep," nurse said as they went
along. "Mind you don't wake him going upstairs; he's in the room
opposite his mother's, you know. Not that you need be much afraid
of disturbing him," she added--"they mostly sleep for hours when
they come off work like that--but when you do hear him moving,
you'd better slip down and get him a cup of tea ready and some
cold meat and bread. I've seen to that; it's in the cupboard to
the right of the stove. He should be at work again by seven."
"Very well," said Milly; "I'll see to it."
So when Geo woke out of his heavy sleep at six o'clock, he,
through the open window, could hear the kettle singing on the
little stove in the back-house below, and some one moving softly
about. There was a comforting sound about it, and he stretched
his long limbs luxuriously. Just then the church clock struck the
half-hour. He raised himself with a yawn. "Half-past--what was
it?" He reached out for the large silver watch that was in the
pocket of his coat that hung over the chair. It was half-past
six! He flung himself off the bed, dipped his head in a basin of
cold water, rubbed it hard with a rough towel, washed his
earth-stained hands, and strode across the little passage to his
mother's room. She was sleeping peacefully, and he slipped
quietly downstairs. Milly stood in the little kitchen, a kettle
in her hand, and a tray with a white cloth stood on the table
before her. Geo started with astonishment.
"I thought I should have to wake you at last!" she said shyly, as
he took the kettle from her; "it was getting so late."
Geo did not answer very relevantly; he was still lost in
astonishment.
"Have you done all this?" he said, pointing to the tray.
"No; nurse got it ready before she went. I am only making the
tea."
"Well I take it very kind of you, miss," said Geo heartily.
"P'raps you'll have a cup yourself?"
Milly was not sorry, and the two sat down in the little kitchen,
which, though hot, was the coolest room in the house--the sun was
on the other side. They looked out on a little garden to the
meadows, in which the grass had begun to grow again. The sound of
the running water seemed cool and inviting.
"That looks nice out there, don't it?" Geo said, when he had
swallowed his third cup of tea and made havoc of the bread and
meat. "I s'pose you can get your can filled nowadays after the
rain without any help?"
Milly laughed.
"Oh yes, there's water enough now; I can reach it easily."
Geo actually looked disappointed.
"I meant I'd ha' liked to ha' got it for you," he said simply.
"There goes the quarter-to," said Milly for an answer; "you've
not got too much time."
"Time enough to have a look round, if you'll come," he said,
getting up and looking down on her shyly from his superior
height.
Milly made no objection, but took up her hat, which she had left
in the inner room, and the two strolled out into the meadows.
Geo pointed to the chimneys of Milly's home, which could be seen
across the stream, perhaps a quarter of a mile away.
"If you'll walk up as far as that with me, I could jump across
into your orchard, if you don't object, and I'll be punctual at
the well. That's a lot shorter than goin' round by the village."
Milly thought her grandfather would probably object very much,
but she risked it, for she thought a little walk along the
water-side with that "lazy, idle good-for-nothing" would be
rather pleasant. As they went along they talked about the well.
The worst and most dangerous work was to come.
"Some one, you see, must go down after them poor chaps," Geo
explained. "You see they'll be so cramped and done up they'll
never get themselves safe through the opening; for I expect
that'll have to be a precious small one from what I see when I
left, and you say they've not got at 'em yet."
"No," said Milly; "my grandfather called round an hour ago, and
he said the hole wasn't no bigger than what would admit an
ordinary man, and that they were binding it round with straw and
making it as strong as they could, because that man Hayes is so
big they're frightened he should break it down, and father said
nobody seemed as if they wanted to try it."
"Not a doubt about that," said Geo, tightening his lips.
Something in his voice made Milly glance up at him. The look on
his face was the same one that Mr. Rutland had surprised on it a
year ago.
"You're never going to do it yourself?" she exclaimed
involuntarily.
"Not unless I have to," Geo answered quietly, and speaking as if
to himself. "But it's got to be done, and I'm not a married man.
Martin is, and so are the other two."
Milly did not answer. To those who follow dangerous callings in
all ranks of life such an argument is unanswerable. Milly
understood, and said nothing.
They had reached the gate where Geo had sat and watched Milly
vainly endeavouring to reach the water only a very short time ago
now. The blossom was off the May, of course, but the half-starved
buttercups were enjoying a second season.
"That's were you stood," said Geo, following out his own thoughts
as he opened the gate for her to pass through before him. He
nodded across to the overhanging thorn.
"You did take me by surprise then," said Milly, smiling as she
conjured up the scene.
"And there's the billy-goat. He've got more to eat now than he
had then; but, all the same, I was jealous of him then. I'd ha'
liked to ha' been in his hide jest for the minute when he was
rubbin' his head against you, and you was coaxin' and pettin' of
him, that I would!"
Geo was getting on and no mistake!
"Well, he's jealous of you now," said Milly, with some confusion,
as the animal, recognizing her voice, strained at his chain and
bleated piteously.
What Geo's next move might have been is unknown, as just at that
critical moment the tiresome church clock boomed out the hour,
and Geo pulled himself together.
"I must go," he said. "I don't like to be late on a job like
this," and before Milly could answer he had sprung across. He
turned and gave her a nod as he picked up his cap, which had
fallen off, and set off running towards the house. Milly waved
her good-bye, and returned slowly through the meadows. The
neglected goat bleated imploringly after her, but she never heard
it.