CHAPTER XVI.
GOOD RESULTS.
Uncle John could not run so swiftly as the lawyer, but he brokethrough a gap in the hedge and arrived at a point just beneath theplank at the same time that Silas Watson did.
One glance showed them the boy safely perched on top of the plank,but the girl was bending backward. She threw out her arms in a vainendeavor to save herself, and with a low cry toppled and plungedswiftly toward the ground.
There was little time for the men to consider their actions.Involuntarily they tried to catch Patricia, whose body struck themsharply, felling them to the ground, and then bounded against thehedge and back to the pavement.
When, half dazed, they scrambled to their feet, the girl laymotionless before them, a stream of red blood welling from a deep cutin her forhead, her eyes closed as if in sleep.
A moment more and the boy was kneeling beside her, striving to staythe bleeding with his handkerchief.
"Do something! For God's sake try to do something," he wailed,piteously. "Can't you see she's killed herself to save me?"
Uncle John knelt down and took the still form in his arms.
"Quiet, my lad," he said. "She isn't dead. Get Nora, and fetch thedoctor as soon as you can."
The boy was gone instantly, his agony relieved by the chance ofaction, and followed by the lawyer, Uncle John carried his niece tothe rose chamber and laid her upon her white bed.
Misery met them, then, and following her came Louise and Beth, full ofhorror and pity for the victim of the dreadful accident.
Jane Merrick had promptly recovered consciousness, for fainting spellswere foreign to her nature. Her first words to Phibbs, who was bendingover her, were:
"Is she dead?"
"Who, Miss Jane?"
"Patricia."
"I don't know, Miss Jane. Why should she be dead?"
"Run, you idiot! Run at once and find out. Ask my brother--askanyone--if Patricia is dead!"
And so Phibbs came to the rose chamber and found the little groupbending over the girl's unconscious form.
"Is she dead, sir? Miss Jane wants to know," said the old servant, inawe-struck tones.
"No," answered Uncle John, gravely. "She isn't dead, I'm sure; but Ican't tell how badly she is hurt. One of her legs--the right one--isbroken, I know, for I felt it as I carried the child in my arms; butwe must wait until the doctor comes before I can tell more."
Misery was something of a nurse, it seemed, and with the assistance ofLouise, who proved most helpful in the emergency, she bathed thewound in the girl's forehead and bandaged it as well as she was able.Between them the women also removed Patricia's clothing and got herinto bed, where she lay white and still unconscious, but breathing sosoftly that they knew she was yet alive.
The doctor was not long in arriving, for Kenneth forced him to leapupon Nora's back and race away to Elmhurst, while the boy followed asswiftly as he could on the doctor's sober cob.
Dr. Eliel was only a country practitioner, but his varied experiencesthrough many years had given him a practical knowledge of surgery,and after a careful examination of Patricia's injuries he was able todeclare that she would make a fine recovery.
"Her leg is fractured, and she's badly bruised," he reported to AuntJane, who sent for him as soon as he could leave the sick room. "But Ido not think she has suffered any internal injuries, and the wound onher forehead is a mere nothing. So, with good care, I expect the younglady to get along nicely."
"Do everything you can for her," said the woman, earnestly. "You shallbe well paid, Dr. Eliel."
Before Patricia recovered her senses the doctor had sewn up herforehead and set the fractured limb, so that she suffered little painfrom the first.
Louise and Beth hovered over her constantly, ministering to everypossible want and filled with tenderest sympathy for their injuredcousin. The accident seemed to draw them out of their selfishness andpetty intrigues and discovered in them the true womanly qualities thathad lurked beneath the surface.
Patsy was not allowed to talk, but she smiled gratefully at hercousins, and the three girls seemed suddenly drawn nearer togetherthan any of them would have thought possible a few hours before.
The boy paced constantly up and down outside Patricia's door, beggingeveryone who left the room, for news of the girl's condition. All hisreserve and fear of women seemed to have melted away as if by magic.Even Beth and Louise were questioned eagerly, and they, having learnedthe story of Patricia's brave rescue of the boy, were very gentle withhim and took pains not to frighten or offend him.
Toward evening Louise asked Patricia if she would see Kenneth for amoment, and the girl nodded a ready assent.
He came in awkward and trembling, glancing fearfully at the bandagedforehead and the still white face. But Patricia managed to smilereassuringly, and held out a little hand for him to take. The boygrasped it in both his own, and held it for several minutes while hestood motionless beside her, his wide eyes fixed intently upon herown.
Then Louise sent him away, and he went to his room and wept profusely,and then quieted down into a sort of dull stupor.
The next morning Uncle John dragged him away from Patricia's door andforced him to play chess. The boy lost every game, being inattentiveand absorbed in thought, until finally Uncle John gave up the attemptto amuse him and settled himself on the top stair for a quiet smoke.The boy turned to the table, and took a sheet of paper from thedrawer. For an hour, perhaps, neither of these curious friends spokea word, but at the end of that time Uncle John arose and knocked theashes from his pipe. Kenneth did not notice him. The man approachedthe table and looked over the boy's shoulder, uttering an exclamationof surprise. Upon the paper appeared a cleverly drawn pencil sketchof Patricia lying in her bed, a faint smile upon her face and her bigblue eyes turned pleasantly upon a shadowy form that stood beside herholding her hand. The likeness was admirable, and if there were faultsin the perspective and composition Uncle John did not recognize them.
He gave a low whistle and turned thoughtfully away, and the youngartist was so absorbed that he did not even look up.
Strolling away to the stables, Uncle John met old Donald, whoenquired:
"How is Miss Patsy this morning, sir?" It was the name she had given,and preferred to be called by.
"She's doing finely," said Uncle John.
"A brave girl, sir!"
"Yes, Donald."
"And the boy?"
"Why, he seems changed, in some way, Donald. Not so nervous and wildas usual, you know. I've just left him drawing a picture. Curious. Agood picture, too."
"Ah, he can do that, sir, as well as a real artist."
"Have you known him to draw, before this?"
"Why, he's always at it, sir, in his quieter moods. I've got a raregood likeness o' myself, as he did long ago, in the harness-room."
"May I see it?"
"With pleasure, sir."
Donald led the way to the harness-room, and took from the cupboard theprecious board he had so carefully preserved.
Uncle John glanced at it and laughed aloud. He could well appreciatethe humor of the sketch, which Donald never had understood, and thecaricature was as clever as it was amusing. He handed the treasureback to Donald and went away even more thoughtful than before.
A few days later a large package arrived at Elmhurst addressed toKenneth Forbes, and Oscar carried it at once to the boy's room, whosat for an hour looking at it in silent amazement. Then he carefullyunwrapped it, and found it to contain a portable easel, a quantity ofcanvas and drawing-paper, paints and oils of every description(mostly all unknown to him) and pencils, brushes and water colors inprofusion.
Kenneth's heart bounded with joy. Here was wealth, indeed, greaterthan he had ever hoped for. He puzzled his brain for weeks to discoverhow this fairy gift had ever come to him, but he was happier in itspossession than he had ever been before in all his life.
Patricia improved rapidly. Had it not been for the broken leg shewould
have been out of the house in a week, as good as ever; butbroken limbs take time to heal, and Dr. Eliel would not permit thegirl to leave her bed until ten days had passed.
Meantime everyone delighted to attend her. Louise and Beth sat withher for hours, reading or working, for the rose chamber was cheery andpleasant, and its big windows opened upon the prettiest part of thegardens. The two girls were even yet suspicious of one another, eachstriving to win an advantage with Aunt Jane; but neither had theslightest fear that Patricia would ever interfere with their plans. Sothey allowed their natural inclinations to pet and admire the heroineof the hour full sway, and Patsy responded so sweetly and frankly totheir advances that they came to love her dearly, and wondered whythey had not discovered from the first how lovable their Irish cousincould be.
Kenneth, also came daily to the sick room for a visit, and Patsy hada way of drawing the boy out and making him talk that was reallyirresistible. After his fairy gift arrived he could not help tellingthe girls all about it and then he brought the things down anddisplayed them, and promised Patsy he would make a picture of thegarden for her.
Then, after the girl got better, he brought his easel down to herroom, where she could watch him work, and began upon the picture,while the cousins joined him in speculations as to who the mysteriousdonor could he.
"At first," said Kenneth, "I thought it was Mr. Watson, for he's alwaybeen very good to me; but he says he knows nothing about it. Then Ithough it might be Uncle John; but Uncle John is too poor to affordsuch an expensive present."
"I don't believe he has a penny in the world," said Louise, who sat bywith some needle-work.
"All he owns," remarked Beth, with a laugh, "is an extra necktie,slightly damaged."
"But he's a dear old man," said Patsy, loyally, "and I'm sure he wouldhave given all those things to Kenneth had he been able."
"Then who was it?" asked the boy.
"Why, Aunt Jane, to be sure," declared Patsy.
The boy scowled, and shook his head.
"She wouldn't do anything to please me, even to save her life," hegrowled. "She hates me, I know that well enough."
"Oh, no; I'm sure she doesn't," said Patsy. "Aunt Jane has a heapof good in her; but you've got to dig for it, like you do for gold.'Twould be just like her to make you this present and keep it asecret."
"If she really did it," replied the boy, slowly, "and it seems as ifshe is the only one. I know who could afford such a gift, it stands toreason that either Uncle John or Mr. Watson asked her to, and she didit to please them. I've lived here for years, and she has never spokena kindly word to me or done me a kindly act. It isn't likely she'dbegin now, is it?"
Unable to make a reassuring reply, Patsy remained silent, and the boywent on with his work. He first outlined the picture in pencil, andthen filled it in with water color. They all expressed admiration forthe drawing; but the color effect was so horrible that even Patsyfound no words to praise it, and the boy in a fit of sudden anger torethe thing to shreds and so destroyed it.
"But I must have my picture, anyhow," said the girl. "Make it in penand ink or pencil, Ken. and I'm sure it will be beautiful."
"You need instruction, to do water color properly," suggested Louise.
"Then I can never do it," he replied, bitterly. But he adopted Patsy'ssuggestion and sketched the garden very prettily in pen and ink.By the time the second picture was completed Patsy had receivedpermission to leave her room, which she did in Aunt Jane's second-bestwheel chair.
Her first trip was to Aunt Jane's own private garden, where theinvalid, who had not seen her niece since the accident, had asked herto come.
Patsy wanted Kenneth to wheel her, but the boy, with a touch of hisold surly demeanor, promptly refused to meet Jane Merrick face toface. So Beth wheeled the chair and Louise walked by Patsy's side, andsoon the three nieces reached their aunt's retreat.
Aunt Jane was not in an especially amiable mood.
"Well, girl, how do you like being a fool?" she demanded, as Patsy'schair came to a stand just opposite her own.
"It feels so natural that I don't mind it," replied Patsy, laughing.
"You might have killed yourself, and all for nothing," continued theold woman, querulously.
Patsy looked at her pityingly. Her aunt's face had aged greatly in thetwo weeks, and the thin gray hair seemed now almost white.
"Are you feeling better, dear?" asked the girl.
"I shall never be better," said Jane Merrick, sternly. "The end is notfar off now."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear you say that!" said Patsy; "but I hope it isnot true. Why, here are we four newly found relations all beginning toget acquainted, and to love one another, and we can't have our littleparty broken up, auntie dear."
"Five of us--five relations," cried Uncle John, coming around thecorner of the hedge. "Don't I count, Patsy, you rogue? Why you'relooking as bright and as bonny as can be. I wouldn't be surprised ifyou could toddle."
"Not yet," she answered, cheerfully. "But I'm doing finely, UncleJohn, and it won't be long before I can get about as well as ever."
"And to think," said Aunt Jane, bitterly, "that all this trouble wascaused by that miserable boy! If I knew where to send him he'd notstay at Elmhurst a day longer."
"Why, he's my best friend, aunt," announced Patsy, quietly. "I don'tthink I could be happy at Elmhurst without Kenneth."
"He has quite reformed," said Louise, "and seems like a very niceboy."
"He's a little queer, yet, at times," added Beth, "but not a bit rude,as he used to be."
Aunt Jane looked from one to the other in amazement. No one hadspoken so kindly of the boy before in years. And Uncle John, with athoughtful look on his face, said slowly:
"The fact is, Jane, you've never given the boy a chance. On thecontrary, you nearly ruined him by making a hermit of him and givinghim no schooling to speak of and no society except that of servants.He was as wild as a hawk when I first came, but these girls are justthe sort of companions he needs, to soften him and make him a man.I've no doubt he'll come out all right, in the end."
"Perhaps you'd like to adopt him yourself, John," sneered the woman,furious at this praise of the one person she so greatly disliked.
Her brother drew his hands from his pockets, looked around in ahelpless and embarrassed way, and then tried fumblingly to fill hispipe.
"I ain't in the adopting business, Jane," he answered meekly. "And ifI was," with a quaint smile, "I'd adopt one or two of these nieces o'mine, instead of Tom Bradley's nephew. If Bradley hadn't seen you,Jane, and loved your pretty face when you were young, Kenneth Forbeswould now be the owner of Elmhurst. Did you ever think of that?"
Did she ever think of it? Why, it was this very fact that made the boyodious to her. The woman grew white with rage.
"John Merrick, leave my presence."
"All right, Jane."
He stopped to light his pipe, and then slowly walked away, leaving anembarrassed group behind him.
Patsy, however, was equal to the occasion. She began at once tochatter about Dr. Eliel, and the scar that would always show on herforehead; and how surprised the Major, her father, would be when hereturned from the visit to his colonel and found his daughter had beenthrough the wars herself, and bore the evidence of honorable wounds.Louise gracefully assisted her cousin to draw Aunt Jane into a moregenial mood, and between them they presently succeeded. The interviewthat had begun so unfortunately ended quite pleasantly, and whenPatricia returned to her room her aunt bade her adieu almost tenderly.
"In fact," said Louise to Beth, in the privacy of the latter'schamber, "I'm getting rather worried over Aunt Jane's evident weaknessfor our Cousin Patsy. Once or twice today I caught a look in her eyewhen she looked at Patsy that she has never given either you or me.The Irish girl may get the money yet."
"Nonsense," said Beth. "She has said she wouldn't accept a penny ofit, and I'm positive she'll keep her word."
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