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Mr Limpney snatched the paper from the boy's hand, and was about to tear it up, when the door opened and Dr Grayson entered. "Well," he said pleasantly, "and how are we getting on?" "Getting on, sir?" said Mr Limpney tartly. "Will you have the goodness to ask my pupil!" "To be sure to be sure," said the doctor. "Well, Dexter, how are you getting on? Eh? what's this?
"The questions I gave you were: `A spent 2 shillings and 6 pence in oranges, and says that three of them cost as much under a shilling as nine of them cost over a shilling. How many did he buy?" Mr Limpney coughed, blew his nose loudly, as if it were a post-horn, and then went on
"It is the construction of the language, Dexter." "Yes; that's what Mr Limpney said. There, I shall put down everything you don't like me to do on a piece of paper that way; and take it out and read it, so as to remember it." "Try another way, Dexter." "How?" he said wonderingly. "By fixing these things in your heart, and not on paper," Helen said, and she left the room.
It was impossible to go about the garden under these circumstances, so Dexter went down a little way, passed round a large Wellingtonia, and walked slowly back toward the house, but, instead of entering, went by the open window of the study, where the voice of Mr Limpney could still be heard talking loudly, and, as it seemed to the listening boy, breathing out threatenings against his peace of mind.
"Yes, yes, of course," said the doctor; "but make it as easy for him as you can for the present, you know. After a time he will be stronger in the brain." Mr Limpney, BA, looked very stern. He was naturally a good-hearted, gentlemanly, and scholarly man. He thoroughly understood the subjects he professed to teach.
"It was because I was glad, because I was not so stupid as I thought." "You are not stupid, Dexter," said Helen, smiling. "We must go back to the beginning, and try and find out how to do these things. Does not Mr Limpney explain them to you?" "Yes," said Dexter dismally, "but when he has done, I don't seem to see what he means, and it does make me so miserable." "Poor boy!" said Helen gently.
"Peterborough, sir," said Mr Limpney sarcastically, and with a peculiar look at Dexter. "H'm! would they now?" said the doctor. "Well, I shouldn't have thought it! And how is he getting on with his Latin, Mr Limpney!" "Horribly, sir!" exclaimed the tutor sharply.
When he did go in, he could hardly believe that he had been away, for there was a kiss from Helen, and a frank "Good morning," and shake of the hand from the doctor, not the slightest allusion being made to the past till breakfast was nearly over, when Maria brought in a note. "Hah! From Limpney," said the doctor.
He seemed hurt and pleased at the same time, and his face was full of reproach as he said "Ignorant as me! Oh!" "There, I'll speak to papa about your lessons, and he will, I have no doubt, say a few words to Mr Limpney about trying to make your tasks easier, and explaining them a little more." "Will you!" cried the boy excitedly, and he caught her hands in his. "Certainly I will, Dexter."
"He came to the bottom of the river to fish, and he spoke to me; and if I had not answered, it would have seemed so proud." Helen was silent for a few moments, not knowing what to say. "It was not about that," she said, at last, "but about your lessons. Mr Limpney has again been complaining very bitterly to papa about your want of progress." "Yes," said Dexter, "and he is always scolding me."
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