The plumber came and repaired the pump next day, going down the well
with a couple of men to hold the rope he had round his waist, and I
heard Mr Solomon grumbling and laughing a good deal about the care he
was taking.
"If he does meet with an accident, Grant," he said, "it won't be his
fault this time. Why, you look poorly, my lad. Don't you feel well?"
"I don't indeed, sir," I said; "my head swims, and things look strange
about me."
"Ah! yes," he said. "Well, look here; you have a good idle for a day or
two."
"But there are so many things want doing in the houses, sir," I said.
"And always will be, Grant. Gardeners are never done. But let that
slide. I can get on without you for a day or two."
"Have you heard how Mr Courtenay is?" I asked.
"Yes, ever so much better, young whelp! Sir Francis has been giving his
brother a tremendous setting down, I hear; and I think they are going to
school or somewhere else at once."
That day, as I was wandering about the kitchen-garden after a chat with
Ike, who had settled down to his work just as if he belonged to the
place, and after I had tried to have a few words with Shock, who puzzled
me more than ever, for he always seemed to hate me, and yet he had
followed me here, I heard some one shout, "Hi! halt!"
I turned and saw Sir Francis beckoning to me, and I went up to him.
"Better? Yes, of course. Boys always get better," he said. "Look
here. Behaved very well yesterday. Go on. I've said a word to
Brownsmith about you; but, look here: don't you tease my lads. Boys
will be boys, I know; but they are not in your station of life, and you
must not try to make companions of them."
I made no answer: I could not, I was so taken aback by his words; and by
the time I had thought of saying that I had never teased either
Courtenay or Philip, and that I had always tried to avoid them, he was a
hundred yards away.
"They must have been telling lies about me," I said angrily; and I
walked on to where Ike was digging, to talk to him about it and ask his
advice as to whether I should go and tell Sir Francis everything.
"No," he said, stopping to scrape his spade when I had done. "I
shouldn't. It's kicks, that's what it is, and we all gets kicked more
or less through life, my boy; but what of it? He wouldn't think no
better of you for going and telling tales. Let him find it out. Sure
to, some day. Feel badly?"