A Dog with a Bad Name Part 41

"What is the matter? May I take you downstairs?"

"Oh no," she cried, pus.h.i.+ng away his hand, and das.h.i.+ng the tears from her eyes.

"Mr Jeffreys, I am so sorry, do forgive me!" and she ran upstairs to her own room.

Jeffreys and Scarfe stood facing one another.

"What is the meaning of this?" said the latter wrathfully.

"It would not interest you. I was telling Miss Atherton about my dog."

"Hang your dog! Did not I tell you that I did not choose for you to obtrude yourself on Raby?"

"You did, and I should be sorry to obtrude myself on any one, whether you choose it or not."

"You appear to forget, Cad Jeffreys--"

"I forget nothing--not even that I am keeping you from your breakfast."

And he quitted the scene.

Later in the morning, as he was working in the library, Mr Rimbolt entered and greeted him cordially.

"Jeffreys, my dear fellow, you are constantly adding new claims on my grat.i.tude. What can I say to you now to thank you for your heroism yesterday, about which Percy has just told us?"

"Pray say nothing, and discount Percy's story heavily, for he was the hero. With his broken arm and in all the danger he never lost heart for a moment."

"Yes, he is a brave boy, too. But I came now to tell you he is asking for you. Will you come and see him?"

Jeffreys followed the father gratefully to the sick-chamber. At the door he encountered Mrs Rimbolt, who, having evidently been present at the boy's narrative, was pleased to regard him almost graciously, and, delightfully ignoring the previous encounter, to wish him good morning.

Percy looked hot and feverish, but brightened up at once as he caught sight of his protector.

"Hullo, old Jeff," said he, "isn't this all nonsense? They say I'm in for a mild congestion, and shall have to stick in bed for a fortnight.

Just sit down; do you mind, and stay with me. You've pulled me through so far; you may as well finish the job."

Thus informally, and without consulting anybody, Jeffreys was const.i.tuted nurse-in-chief in the sick-chamber. The boy would tolerate no discussion or protest on the part of the authorities. He must have old Jeff. Bother a hospital nurse, bother the doctor, bother Scarfe, bother everybody. He wanted Jeff; and if Jeff couldn't come he didn't mean to take his medicine or do anything he ought to do. Walker had better put up a chair-bed in the dressing-room for Jeff, and Jeff and he (Percy) could have their grub together. Of course all the others could come and see him, especially Raby--but he meant to have Jeff there for good, and that was flat. Thus this selfish young invalid arranged for his own pleasure, and upset all the sober arrangements of his friends.

Jeffreys delightedly accepted his new duty, and faced the jealousy of Mrs Rimbolt and Scarfe unflinchingly. It was certainly an unfortunate position for the fond mother; and little wonder if in her mind Jeffreys'

brave service should be blotted out in the offence of being preferred before herself in the sick-chamber. She readily lent an ear to the insinuations which Scarfe, also bitterly hurt, freely let out, and persuaded herself miserably that her boy was in the hands of an adventurer who had cajoled not only the boy but the father, and in short personated the proverbial viper at the fireside.

So the fortnight pa.s.sed. Percy turned the corner; and the time for the departure of Mrs Scarfe and her son drew near.

Percy on the evening before they went had been less bright than usual, and had alarmed Jeffreys by a slight return of feverishness. He had just dropped off to sleep, and seemed about to settle quietly for the night, when the door opened and Scarfe came in.

Jeffreys was there in an instant with his hand raised in warning.

"Hush, please," said he, "he has just gone over."

"Whom are you telling to hush? you canting brute!" said Scarfe, raising his voice in a pa.s.sion unusual for him. "Let me come in, do you hear?"

And he moved forward, as if to force his way into the room.

Jeffreys caught him by the two elbows and lifted him bodily out into the landing, and then stood with his back to the door.

Scarfe, livid with rage, made no attempt to get back into the room.

Turning on his adversary, he said between his teeth--

"I shall remember this," and departed.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

A POLITE LETTER-WRITER.

Scarfe descended to the drawing-room, where he found Mrs Rimbolt alone.

"I am so sorry you are going," said she. "Your visit has been greatly spoiled, I fear. You must come to us at Easter, when we shall be in London, you know."

"Thank you; I shall be glad to come. I hope to find Percy well again.

I went to wish him good-bye just now, but was pretty abruptly denied admission, so I must ask you to say good-bye for me."

"Dear me, it is very annoying. I cannot understand the craze the boy has taken for this companion of his. I am so sorry you should have been annoyed."

"I a.s.sure you I am far more annoyed on Percy's account than my own. I happen to know something of Jeffreys before he came to Wildtree. To tell you the truth, Mrs Rimbolt, I don't think he is a safe companion for Percy at all."

"I have long felt the same; but what is to be done, Mr Scarfe? Mr Rimbolt has almost the same craze as Percy for this librarian of his, and I have really no voice in the matter. He contrives to leave nothing definite to lay hold of; I should be thankful if he did. But it is most uncomfortable to feel that one's own son is perhaps being ruined under this roof."

"It must be. It is no business of mine, of course, except that I am fond of Percy, and should be sorry to see harm come to him; and knowing what I do--"

At that moment Mr Rimbolt, with Mrs Scarfe, entered the room.

"What secrets are you two talking?" said the latter.

"Your son was just telling me how fond he is of Percy; and I am sure it will be a great loss to Percy when he is gone. He has promised me to come to see us in town at Easter."

"It is a satisfaction that you can leave with the a.s.surance that Percy is virtually well again," said Mr Rimbolt. "Really, I do not know how we should have got on without Mr Jeffreys to nurse him. I never knew such devotion. He has never wanted for a thing all the time; and Jeffreys' influence is of the highest and manliest sort. Percy will be able to reckon this illness among the blessings of his life."

Mr Rimbolt spoke feelingly and warmly.

Scarfe and Mrs Rimbolt exchanged glances; and the conversation shortly afterwards turned to the journey before the travellers.

Scarfe had come down to the drawing-room resolved, cost what it would, to settle scores with Jeffreys there and then by denouncing him to the family on whose favour he was dependent; and had Mr Rimbolt's entrance been delayed a few minutes, Mrs Rimbolt would have known all about young Forrester. Once again, however, he was stopped in time, and a few moments' reflection convinced him it was as well.

Raby, he knew, whatever she might think of Jeffreys, would never forgive the informant who should be the means of turning him out of Wildtree, still less would Percy. Nor was Mr Rimbolt likely to esteem his guest more highly in the capacity of tale-bearer; and he decidedly wished to "keep in" with all three.

And there was another reason still.