How Miss St. John could have understood him, I cannot think; but she did.
'Oh! very well,' she answered, smiling. 'Just as you please. Perhaps you had better take this piece of plaster to Betty, and ask her to finish the dressing for you.'
Robert took the plaster mechanically, and, sick at heart and speechless, rose to go, forgetting even his bonny leddy in his grief.
'You had better take your violin with you,' said Miss St. John, urged to the cruel experiment by a strong desire to see what the strange boy would do.
He turned. The tears were streaming down his odd face. They went to her heart, and she was bitterly ashamed of herself.
'Come along. Do sit down again. I only wanted to see what you would do. I am very sorry,' she said, in a tone of kindness such as Robert had never imagined.
He sat down instantly, saying,
'Eh, mem! it's sair to bide;' meaning, no doubt, the conflict between his inclination to tell her all, and his duty to be silent.
The dressing was soon finished, his hair combed down over it, and Robert looking once more respectable.
'Now, I think that will do,' said his nurse.