The Clever Woman of the Family - Page 123/364

Few words were required, the stranger's height and length of arms did

all that was needful, and Don was placed in safety with less pain and

outcry than could have been hoped, Rachel ascending before the polite

stranger had time to offer his assistance. The dog's hurt was, he agreed

with Rachel, a broken leg, and his offer of carrying it home could not

be refused, especially as he touched it with remarkable tenderness and

dexterity, adding that with a splint or two, he thought he had surgery

enough to set the limb.

They were much nearer the Homestead than to Myrtle-wood, and as it had

been already agreed that Bessie should breakfast there, the three bent

their steps up the hill as fast as might be, in consideration of Mrs.

Curtis's anxieties. Bessie in a state of great exultation and amusement

at the romantic adventure, Rachel somewhat put out at the untoward

mishap that obliged her to be beholden to one of the casual visitors,

against whom her mother had such a prejudice.

Still, the gentleman himself was far from objectionable, in appearance

or manner; his air was that of an educated man, his dress that of a

clergyman at large, his face keen. Rachel remembered to have met him

once or twice in the town within the last few days, and wondered if he

could be a person who had called in at the lace school and asked so many

questions that Mrs. Kelland had decided that he could be after no good;

he must be one of the Parliament folks that they sent down to take the

bread out of children's mouths by not letting them work as many hours

as was good for them. Not quite believing in a Government commission

on lace-making grievances, Rachel was still prepared to greet a kindred

spirit of philanthropy, and as she reflected more, thought that perhaps

it was well that an introduction had been procured on any terms.

So she thawed a little, and did not leave all the civility to Miss

Keith, but graciously responded to the stranger's admiration of the

views, the exquisite framings of the summer sea and sky made by tree,

rock, and rising ground, and the walks so well laid out on the little

headland, now on smooth turf, now bordering slopes wild with fern

and mountain ash, now amid luxuriant exotic shrubs that attested the

mildness of Avonmouth winters.

When they came near the front of the house, Rachel took man and dog in

through the open window of her own sitting-room, and hastened to provide

him with bandages and splints, leaving Bessie to reassure Mrs. Curtis

that no human limbs were broken, and that no one was even wet to the

skin; nay, Bessie had even the tact to spare Mrs. Curtis the romantic

colouring that delighted herself. Grace had followed Rachel to assist

at the operation, and was equally delighted with its neatness and

tenderness, as well as equally convinced of the necessity of asking the

performer first to wash his hands and then to eat his breakfast, both

which kind proposals he accepted with diffident gratitude, first casting

a glance around the apartment, which, though he said nothing, conveyed

that he was profoundly struck with the tokens of occupation that it

contained. The breakfast was, in the first place, a very hungry one;

indeed, Bessie had been too ravenous to wait till the surgery was over,

and was already arrived at her second egg when the others appeared, and

the story had again to be told to the mother, and her warm thanks given.

Mrs. Curtis did not like strangers when they were only names, but let

her be brought in contact, and her good nature made her friendly at

once, above all in her own house. The stranger was so grave and quiet

too, not at all presuming, and making light of his services, but

only afraid he had been trespassing on the Homestead grounds. These

incursions of the season visitors were so great a grievance at the

Homestead that Mrs. Curtis highly approved his forbearance, whilst she

was pleased with his tribute to her scenery, which he evidently admired

with an artistic eye. Love of sketching had brought him to Avonmouth,

and before he took leave, Mrs. Curtis had accorded him that permission

to draw in her little peninsula for which many a young lady below was

sighing and murmuring. He thanked her with a melancholy look, confessing

that in his circumstances his pencil was his toy and his solace.