“Dennis did that, you know,” said Maisie, forgetting her shyness a little. “Dennis made a Round Robin, and all the men put their names, and so Mr Solace let Tuvvy stop.”
The doctor nodded, with a little smile. He seemed to know all about it, and this did not surprise Maisie, who thought it quite natural that such a great event should be widely spread.
“And since then,” she went on, encouraged the attentive expression on her listener’s face, “he’s been as steady as steady! He doesn’t have to pass the Cross Keys now, you know, because he goes home over our field, and he thinks it’s partly that. It was the red blind drew him in, you see, and then he couldn’t come out again.”
Dr Price nodded again, and his smile widened in spite of evident efforts to conceal it, as Maisie turned her serious gaze full upon him.
“Just so,” he said.
At that very minute it struck Maisie that she had made a dreadful mistake. She ought not to have mentioned red blinds to Dr Price. Dennis had told her he was sometimes “like Tuvvy.” She hung her head, and her round cheeks flushed scarlet.
“I heard all about it the other day, Miss Maisie,” said the doctor in a very kind voice, “and who do you think told me? Tuvvy’s little girl. She’s got a brother about the age of yours, and they both think a lot of what you did for their father.”
Maisie began to forget her confusion in the interest of Tuvvy’s little girl. She stole a glance at the doctor, who did not look a bit vexed at her unlucky speech, but went on as good-naturedly as ever.
“She’s a nice little maid, and it’s hard lines for her just now. She has to lie quite still all day because she’s hurt her back. But she’s very good and patient.”
“Can’t you make her well?” asked Maisie, remembering the firm faith of the village people in Dr Price.