Quicksilver Part 11

"I say, shall I have to clean the knives?"

"No, no, no."

"Nor yet the boots and shoes?"

"No, boy; no."

"I shall have to fetch the water then, shan't I?"

"My good boy, nothing of the kind. You are going to live with us, and you are my adopted son," said the doctor rather pompously, while Helen sighed.

"Which?" queried the boy.

"Which what?" said the doctor.

"Which what you said?"

"I did not say anything, sir."

"Oh my! what a story!" cried the boy, appealing to Helen. "Didn't you hear him say I was to be his something son?"

"Adopted son," said the doctor severely; "and, look here, you must not speak to me in that way."

"All--" Dexter checked himself again, and he only stared.

"Now, you understand," said the doctor, after a few minutes' hesitation; "you are to be here like my son, and you may call me--yes, father, or papa."

"How rum!" said the boy, showing his white teeth with a remarkable want of reverence. "I say," he added, turning to Helen; "what am I to call you!"

Helen turned to her father for instructions, her brow wrinkling from amus.e.m.e.nt and vexation.

"Helen," said the doctor, in a decided tone. "We must have no half measures, my dear; I mean to carry out my plan in its entirety."

"Very well, papa," said Helen quietly; and then to herself, "It is only for a few days."

"Now, then," said the doctor, "clothes. Ring that bell, Dexter."

The boy ran so eagerly to the bell that he knocked over a light chair, and left it on the floor till he had rung.

"Oh, I say," he exclaimed; "they go over a deal easier than our forms."

"Never mind the forms now, Dexter. I want you to forget all about the old school."

"Forget it?" said the boy, with his white forehead puckering up.

"Yes, and all belonging to it. You are now going to be my son."

"But I shall want to go and see the boys sometimes."

"No, sir; you will not."

"But I must go and see Mother Curdley."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the doctor. "Well, we shall see. Perhaps she will be allowed to come and see you."

"Hooray!" cried the boy excitedly; and turning to Helen he obtained possession of her hand. "I say, save her a bit of that cake."

"She shall have some cake, Dexter," said Helen kindly, for she could not help, in spite of her annoyance, again feeling pleased with the boy's remembrance of others.

"And I say," he cried, "when she does come, we'll have a ha'porth o'

snuff screwed up in a bit o' paper, and--has he got any gin?"

"Hush, hush!" whispered Helen.

"But she's so fond of a drop," said the boy earnestly.

"And now," said the doctor; "the next thing is clothes. Ah, Maria, send Cribb to ask Mr Bleddan to come here directly."

"Yes, sir," said Maria; and after a glance at the boy she closed the door.

In less than a quarter of an hour Mr Bleddan, the tailor of Coleby, was there; and Dexter stood up feeling tickled and amused at being measured for some new clothes which the tailor said should be ready in a week.

"A week!" said the doctor; "but what am I to do now? The boy can't go like that."

"Ready-made, sir? I've plenty of new and fashionable suits exactly his size."

"Bring some," said the doctor laconically; "and shirts and stockings and boots. Everything he wants. Do you understand!"

Mr Bleddan perfectly understood, and Dexter stood with his eyes sparkling as he heard the list of upper and under garments, boots, caps, everything which the tailor and clothier considered necessary.

The moment the man had gone, Dexter made a dash to recommence his Ixion-like triumphal dance, but this time Helen caught his hand and stopped him.

"No, no, not here," she said quietly; and not in the least abashed, but in the most obedient way, the boy submitted.

"It was because I was so jolly glad: that's all."

"Hah!" said the doctor, smiling. "Now, I like that, Helen. Work with me, and all that roughness will soon pa.s.s away."

"I say, will that chap be long?" cried Dexter, running to the window and looking out. "Am I to have all those things for my own self, and may I wear 'em directly?"

"Look here, my lad; you shall have everything that's right and proper for you, if you are a good boy."

"Oh, I'll be a good boy--least I'll try to be. Shall you give me the cane if I ain't?"

"I--er--I don't quite know," said the doctor. "I hope you will not require it."

"Mr Sibery said I did, and he never knew a boy who wanted it worse, but it didn't do me no good at all."