The odour from the steaming dishes was enough to have attracted any coa.r.s.ely-fed workhouse boy, just as a flower, brings a bee from afar.

Helen was helped to a couple of choice slices from the breast, and then the doctor, looking stern all the while, carved off the liver wing, with a fine long piece of juicy breast adhering, and laid it on a plate, with the biggest sausage, gravy, and sauce, Maria carrying the plate afterwards to Helen to be well supplied with vegetables.

Then, according to custom, Maria departed with her nose in the air, and her bosom overcharged with indignant remonstrances, which she was going to let off at Mrs Millett.

The meal was commenced in silence, Dexter taking up his knife and fork, and watching by turns the doctor and Helen, to see how they handled theirs. Then he cut the sausage in half, just as the doctor had cut his, and looked hard at him, but the doctor was gazing down at his plate and frowning.

Dexter looked at Helen, but she was gazing at her father, and everything was very still in the dining-room, while from without, faintly heard, there came the rippling song of a lark, far away over the meadow across the river.

That fowl smelt delicious, and looked good in the extreme, but Dexter laid down his knife and fork, and sat perfectly still.

Helen saw everything, but she did not speak, and the annoyance she had felt began to diminish, for the boy was evidently suffering keenly.

"Hallo!" said the doctor. "Don't you like chicken!"

The boy started, and looked up at him with a troubled face.

"I say, don't you like chicken, sir!"

Dexter tried to answer, but the words would not come; and he sat there with the tears gathering in his eyes, though he tried hard to choke his emotion down.

The doctor was very angry, and sadly disappointed; but he said no more, only went on with his lunch.

"Eat your dinner," said Helen, after a time; and she leant over toward the boy, and whispered the words kindly.

He gave her a quick, grateful look, but he could not speak.

"Come, sir, eat your dinner," said the doctor at last.

"Please, sir, I can't," the boy faltered.

"Why not?"

Dexter had to make another fight to keep down his tears before he could say--

"Please, sir, I never could eat my breakfast when I knew I was going to have the cane."

The doctor grunted, frowned, and went on eating, while the boy directed a pitiful appealing look at Helen.

"Yes," she said at last, "what do you want?"

"May I go up to that place where I slept last night?"

Helen glanced at her father, who nodded shortly, and went on with his dinner, while the required permission being given by Helen, the boy rose hastily, and hurried out of the room.

Doctor Grayson was silent for a few minutes, and then he took a gla.s.s of sherry.

"A young scoundrel!" he said. "It's not pleasant to have to say so, but I've made a mistake."

"And are you going to give up your project, papa?" said Helen.

"_No_," he thundered. "Certainly not. It's very awkward, for that bullet-headed drill-sergeant Hippetts will laugh at me, and say 'I told you so,' but I shall have to take the boy back."

Helen was silent.

"He told me I should," he continued; "but I would not believe him. The young dog's face attracted me. He looked so frank and ingenuous. But I'll soon pick out another. My theory is right, and if I have ten thousand obstacles, I'll carry it out, and prove to the world that I knew what I was at."

Helen went on slowly with her lunch, thinking deeply the while.

"Well?" said the doctor angrily, "why don't you speak? Are you triumphing over my first downfall!"

Helen looked up at her father, and smiled reproachfully.

"I was thinking about Dexter," she said softly.

"A confounded ungrateful young dog! Taken him from that wretched place, clothed him, offered him a home of which he might be proud, and he turns upon me like that!"

"It was the act of a high-spirited, mischievous boy," said Helen quietly.

"Mischievous! I should think it was. Confound him! But I'll have no more of his tricks. Back he goes to the Union, and I'll have one without so much spirit."

Helen continued her lunch, and the doctor went on with his, but only to turn pettishly upon his child.

"I wish to goodness you'd say something, Helen," he cried. "It's so exasperating to have every one keeping silence like that."

Helen looked up and smiled.

"Yes, and that's just as aggravating," said the doctor. "Now you are laughing at me."

"No, no; I was thinking very seriously about your project."

"One which I mean to carry out, madam."

"Of course, papa," said Helen quietly; "but I would not be damped at the outset."

"What do you mean, Helen?"

"I mean that I should not take that poor boy back to the life from which you have rescued him, just because he has displayed a few pranks, all due to the exuberance of his nature. Coming from such a place, and making such a change, he is sure to feel it strongly. He is, so to speak, bubbling over with excitement and--"

"Here, stop a moment," said the doctor, in astonishment. "I give up.

You had better write that book."

"Not I, papa dear," said Helen, smiling. "And if you are really bent upon this experiment--"

"And I am," said the doctor. "Nothing shall change me."

"Then I think you have selected the very boy."