‘No; but I really should enjoy showing him the old armour. He was asking me about it this morning. I think he knows nearly as much of it as we do.’
‘Very well. I say, Phœbe, would you object to my taking Brown and Clay—my two head boys? I owe them a treat, and they would just enter into this.’
Phœbe was perfectly willing to accept the two head boys, and the appointment had just been made when the doctor arrived. Again he brought good hope. From his own examination of Owen, and from Mr. Randolf’s report, he was convinced that a considerable amelioration had taken place, and saw every reason to hope that in so young and vigorous a nature the injury to the brain might be completely repaired, and the use of the limbs might in part, at least, return, though full recovery could not be expected. He wished to observe his patient for a month or six weeks in town, that the course of treatment might be decided, after which he had better be taken to the Holt, to enjoy the pure air, and be out of doors as much as the season would permit.
To Honor this opinion was the cause of the deepest, most thankful gladness; but on coming back to Owen she found him sitting in his easy-chair, with his hand over his eyes, and his look full of inexpressible dejection and despondency. He did not, however, advert to the subject, only saying, ‘Now then! let us have in the young pauper to see the old one.’
‘My dear Owen, you had better rest.’
‘No, no; let us do the thing. The grandmother, too!’ he said impatiently.
‘I will fetch little Owen; but you really are not fit for Mrs. Murrell.’
‘Yes, I am; what am I good for but such things? It will make no difference, and it must be done.’
‘My boy, you do not know to what you expose yourself.’
‘Don’t I,’ said Owen, sadly.