with pleasure as he brought the invalid chair up to
the door after lunch, and helped deposit the convalescent in his place,
Helen and the doctor superintending, and Mrs Millett giving additional
orders, as Maria formed herself into a flesh and blood crutch.

"There, Dexter," said the doctor; "we shall be back before it's time for
you to come in."

He nodded, and Helen bent down and kissed the boy. Then there was the
crushing of the wheels on the firm gravel, and Dexter lay back breathing
in health.

"Thought I was never going to have a pull at the chair, Mas' Dexter,"
said Peter. "Old Dan'l gets too bad to live with. Thinks nobody can't
take care of you but him. Let's see, though; he said I was to cut you a
bunch of them white grapes in Number 1 house, and there was two green
figs quite ripe if you liked to have them."

Peter pulled the carriage up and down the garden half a dozen times,
listening the while till he heard the dull bang of the front door.

"They're gone," he said gleefully. "Come on!"

He went down the garden at a trot, and then carefully drew the
wheeled-chair on to the grass at the bottom.

"Peter, did you feed the squirrel!" said Dexter suddenly.

Peter looked round very seriously, and shook his head.

"Oh!" ejaculated Dexter. "Why didn't you feed the poor thing?"

"Wait a minute and you'll see," said the groom; and, drawing the chair a
little further, until it was close to the brink of the bright river, he
turned round--

"Thought you'd like to feed him yourself, so I brought him down."

There, on a willow branch, hung the old cage, with the squirrel inside,
and Peter thrust his hand into his pocket to withdraw it full of nuts.

But Peter had not finished his surprise, for he left the chair for a few
moments and returned with Dexter's rod and line, and a bag of worms.

"Going to fish?" said Dexter eagerly.

"No, but I thought you'd like to now you was better," said Peter.
"There, you can fish as you sit there, and I'll put on your bait, and
take 'em off the hook."

Dexter fished for half an hour, but he did not enjoy it, for he could
not throw in his line without expecting to see Bob Dimsted on the other
side. So he soon pleaded fatigue, and was wheeled out into the
sunshine, and to the door of the vinery, up which he had scrambled when
he first came to the doctor's house.

A week later he was down at Chale, in the Isle of Wight, where the
doctor had taken a house; and here,