The Amateur Gentleman Part 133

So, because of this dream, Barnabas lay in a deep and utter content, for it seemed that Happiness had come to him after all, and of its own accord. But, in a while, he stirred and sighed, and presently opened dreamy eyes, and thus it chanced that he beheld the door of his chamber, and the door was quivering as though it had but just closed. Then, as he lay watching it, sleepy-eyed, it opened again, slowly and noiselessly, and John Peterby entered softly, took a step towards the bed, but, seeing Barnabas was awake, stopped, and so stood there very still.

Suddenly Barnabas smiled, and held out a hand to him.

"Why, John," said he, "my faithful John--is it you?"

"Sir," murmured Peterby, and coming forward, took that extended hand, looking down at Barnabas joyful-eyed, and would have spoken, yet uttered no other word.

"John," said Barnabas, glancing round the faded splendors of the bed-chamber, "where am I, pray?"

"At Ashleydown, sir."

"Ashleydown?" repeated Barnabas, wrinkling his brow.

"Sir, you have been--very ill."

"Ah, yes, I was shot I remember--last night, I think?"

"Sir, it happened over three weeks ago."

"Three weeks!" repeated Barnabas, sitting up with an effort, "three weeks, John?--Oh, impossible!"

"You have been very near death, sir. Indeed I think you would have died but for the tender nursing and unceasing care of--"

"Ah, G.o.d bless her! Where is she, John--where is the d.u.c.h.ess?"

"Her Grace went out driving this morning, sir."

"This morning? Why, I was talking with her this morning--only a little while ago."

"That was yesterday morning, sir."

"Oh!" said Barnabas, hand to head, "do you mean that I have slept the clock round?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hum!" said Barnabas. "Consequently I'm hungry, John, deuced sharp set--ravenous, John!"

"That, sir," quoth Peterby, smiling his rare smile, "that is the best news I've heard this three weeks and more, and your chicken broth is ready--"

"Chicken broth!" exclaimed Barnabas, "for shame, John. Bring me a steak, do you hear?"

"But, sir," Peterby remonstrated, shaking his head, yet with his face ever brightening, "indeed I--"

"Or a chop, John, or ham and eggs--I'm hungry; I tell you."

"Excellent!" laughed Peterby, nodding his head, "but the doctor, sir--"

"Doctor!" cried Barnabas, with a snort, "what do I want with doctors?

I'm well, John. Bring me my clothes."

"Clothes, sir!" exclaimed Peterby, aghast. "Impossible, sir! No, no!"

"Yes, yes, John--I'm going to get up."

"But, sir--"

"This very moment! My clothes, John, my clothes!"

"Indeed, sir, I--"

"John Peterby," said Barnabas, scowling blackly, "you will oblige me with my garments this instant,--obey me, sir!"

But hereupon, while Barnabas scowled and Peterby hesitated, puckered of brow yet joyful of eye, there came the sound of wheels on the drive below and the slam of a coach door, whereat Peterby crossed to the window and, glancing out, heaved a sigh of relief.

"Who is it?" demanded Barnabas, his scowl blacker than ever.

"Her Grace has returned, sir."

"Very good, John! Present my compliments and sa'y I will wait upon her as soon as I'm dressed."

But hardly had Peterby left the room with this message, than the door opened again and her Grace of Camberhurst appeared, who, catching sight of Barnabas sitting up shock-headed among his pillows, uttered a little, glad cry and hurried to him.

"Why, Barnabas!" she exclaimed, "oh, Barnabas!" and with the words stooped, quick and sudden, yet in the most matter-of-fact manner in the world, and kissed him lightly on the brow.

"Oh, dear me!" she cried, beginning to pat and smooth his tumbled pillows, "how glad I am to see you able to frown again, though indeed you look dreadfully ferocious, Barnabas!"

"I'm--very hungry, d.u.c.h.ess!"

"Of course you are, Barnabas, and G.o.d bless you for it!"

"A steak, madam, or a chop, I think--"

"Would be excellent, Barnabas!"

"And I wish to get up, d.u.c.h.ess."

"To be sure you do, Barnabas--there, lie down, so!"

"But, madam, I am firmly resolved--I'm quite determined to get up, at once--"

"Quite so, dear Barnabas--lay your head back on the pillow! Dear me, how comfortable you look! And now, you are hungry you say? Then I'll sit here and gossip to you while you take your chicken broth! You may bring it in, Mr. Peterby."

"Chicken broth!" snarled Barnabas, frowning blacker than ever, "but, madam, I tell you I won't have the stuff; I repeat, madam, that I am quite determined to--"

"There, there--rest your poor tired head--so! And it's all a delicious jelly when it's cold--I mean the chicken broth, of course, not your head. Ah! you may give it to me, Mr. Peterby, and the spoon--thank you! Now, Barnabas!"

And hereupon, observing the firm set of her Grace's mouth, and the authoritative flourish of the spoon she held in her small, though imperious hand, Barnabas submitted and lying back among his pillows in sulky dignity, swallowed the decoction in sulky silence, and thereafter lay hearkening sulkily to her merry chatter until he had sulked himself to sleep again.