“Insect, papa?” said Helen, smiling.
“No, no. You understand what I mean.”
So Dexter did not see Coleby during those three years, in which he stayed his terms at a school where the principal did not break the spirit of backward and unruly boys. On the contrary, he managed to combine excellent teaching with the possession of plenty of animal spirits, and his new pupil gained credit, both at home and at the school.
“Now,” said the doctor, on the day of their return to the old home, as he ran his eye proudly over the sturdy manly-looking boy he was taking back; “I think I can show Sir James I’m right, eh, my dear?”
Old Dan’l smiled a wonderful smile as Dexter went down the garden directly he got home.
“Shake hands with you, my lad?” he said, in answer to an invitation; “why, I’m proud. What a fine un you have growed! But come and have a look round. I never had such a year for fruit before.”
Chuckling with satisfaction, the doctor was not content until he had brought Sir James and Lady Danby to the house to dinner, in company with their son, who had grown up into an exceedingly tall, thin, pale boy with a very supercilious smile.
No allusion was made to the doctor’s plan, but the dinner-party did not turn out a success, for the boys did not seem to get on together; and Sir James said in confidence to Lady Danby that night, precisely what Dr Grayson said to Helen—
“They never shall be companions if I can help it. I don’t like that boy.”
Over the dessert, too, Sir James managed to upset Dexter’s equanimity by an unlucky speech, which brought the colour to the boy’s cheeks.