with a thing like that."

"Bah!" ejaculated the doctor, throwing down the prop, which fell on the
grass with a loud thud. "Copestake!--Peter!--take those things away,
and send for the glazier to put in those squares. Here, Dexter; this
way."

The doctor strode away half a dozen steps, and then stopped and gazed
down.

"Where is your jacket, sir? and where are your boots?"

"I tucked 'em under that tree there that lies on the grass," said the
boy, pointing to a small cedar.

"Fetch them out, sir."

Dexter went toward the tree, and his first instinct was to make a dash
and escape, anywhere, so as to avoid punishment, but as he stooped down
and drew his articles of attire from beneath the broad frond-like
branches, he caught sight of Helen's eyes fixed upon him, so full of
trouble and amusement that he walked back, put his hand in the doctor's,
and walked with him into the house.

Helen followed, and as she passed through the window Dan'l turned to
Peter with--

"I say, who is he?"

"I dunno. Looks like a young invalid."

"Ay, that's it," said the gardener. "Hair cut short, and looks very
white. He's a young luneattic come for the governor to cure. Well, if
that's going to be it, I shall resign my place."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," said Peter, who was moved to say it from the
same feeling which induced the old woman to pray for long life to the
tyrant--for fear they might get a worse to rule over them. "Doctor'll
make him better. Rum-looking little chap."

As they spoke, they were carrying the ladder and board round to the back
of the house, and, in doing so, they had to pass the kitchen door, where
Maria was standing.

"See that game!" said Peter.

"Oh yes. I saw him out of one of the bedroom windows."

"Young patient, ain't he?" said Peter.

"Patient! Why, he's a young workhouse boy as master's took a fancy to.
I never see such games, for my part."

Peter whistled, and the head-gardener repeated his determination to
resign.

"And he'll never get another gardener like me," he said.

"That's a true word, Mr Copestake, sir," said Peter seriously. And
then to himself: "No, there never was another made like you, you old
tyrant. I wish you would go, and then we should have a little peace."

CHAPTER TEN.

DEXTER IS VERY SORRY.

Dexter walked into the doctor's study, and Helen came as rearguard
behind.

"Now, sir," said the doctor sternly, "I suppose you know that I'm very
much d