“That is all nonsense!” broke in the doctor, as he shook his head at Nell. “You must give Miss Hamblyn what you think fit, Mrs. Munson. She has got her living to earn, and cannot afford to do her work for nothing.”
“She has had her living, and good living too, for we don’t stint food in this house,” Mrs. Munson said grudgingly, for she was very much disposed to take Nell’s view of the matter, and restore the yellow canvas bag to her pocket with its contents undisturbed.
But this the doctor would not permit. “Something you must pay, Mrs. Munson, if only as a thank-offering, for, remember, it is the nursing you have had which has saved your life,” he said, sticking to his point with so much pertinacity that in the end Mrs. Munson produced two dollars from the yellow bag, which she bestowed upon Nell with the air of one who confers a very great favour indeed.
“It will help towards buying you a pair of boots, and it won’t be before you need them either,” she said, in such pointed allusion to the worn state of Nell’s footgear that the poor girl crimsoned with mortification.
“Now that little ceremony is over, we will be moving,” said the doctor, with an air of relief.
And in a very few minutes more Nell had taken leave of Mrs. Munson, and, with her bundle, was mounting the step of the doctor’s high two-wheeled cart.
Giles Bailey came up just as they were driving off, and protested vigorously against Nell being spirited away in such a hurried fashion.
But the doctor only laughed at him. “If you are so anxious to provide your aunt with a permanent nurse and helper, friend Giles, you should get married, and bring your wife home to look after things.”
“She’d have a rather bad time of it, I’m afraid, shut up with aunt and me,” he replied stolidly, and, as usual, staring hard at Nell.
“I’m afraid she would,” commented the doctor. Then he told Dobbin to start; so the journey was commenced, and Nell was moved on further into the wide world.