‘Eureka!’ he cried. ‘I’ll set all straight by-and-by. You are better now, Miss Caroline; walk forward,’ he urged.

Not reflecting that it would be more difficult for Miss Helstone than for himself to climb a wall or penetrate a hedge, he piloted her by a short cut which led to no gate. The consequence was he had to help her over some formidable obstacles, and, while he railed at her for helplessness, he perfectly liked to feel himself of use.

‘Martin, before we separate, assure me seriously, and on your word of honour, that Mr. Moore is better.’

‘How very much you think of that Moore!’

‘No—but many of his friends may ask me, and I wish to be able to give an authentic answer.’

‘You may tell them he is well enough, only idle; you may tell them that he takes mutton-chops for dinner, and the best of arrowroot for supper. I intercepted a basin myself one night on its way upstairs, and ate half of it.’

‘And who waits on him, Martin? Who nurses him?’

‘Nurses him?—the great baby! Why, a woman as round and big as our largest water-butt—a rough, hardfavoured old girl. I make no doubt she leads him a rich life; nobody else is let near him; he is chiefly in the dark. It is my belief she knocks him about terribly in that chamber. I listen at the wall sometimes when I am in bed, and I think I hear her thumping him. You should see her fist: she could hold half-a- dozen hands like yours in her one palm. After all, notwithstanding the chops and jellies he gets, I would not be in his shoes. In fact, it is my private opinion that she eats most of what goes up on the tray to Mr. Moore. I wish she may not be starving him.’

Profound silence and meditation on Caroline’s part, and a sly watchfulness on Martin’s.

‘You never see him, I suppose, Martin?’

‘I? No: I don’t care to see him, for my own part.’

Silence again.

‘Did not you come to our house once with Mrs. Pryor, about five weeks since, to ask after him?’ again inquired Martin.

‘Yes.’

‘I dare say you wished to be shown upstairs?’

‘We did wish it; we entreated it; but your mother declined.’

‘Ay! she declined. I heard it all; she treated you as it is her pleasure to treat visitors now and then; she behaved to you rudely and harshly.’

‘She was not kind; for, you know, Martin, we are relations, and it is natural we should take an interest in Mr. Moore. But here we must part: we are at your father’s gate.’

‘Very well—what of that? I shall walk home with you?’

‘They will miss you, and wonder where you are.’

‘Let them.… I can take care of myself, I suppose.’