Chapter Eleven.
Domestic Manners.
After Mr Proctor had come and was gone, and Mrs Proctor was gone with him, Hugh began to wonder why Tooke had never paid the visit he had promised. Several boys had called; some to thank Hugh for balls that he had quilted; some to see how he got on; and some to bring him Crofton news. Mr Tooke had fastened his horse up at the door, in passing, and stepped in for a few minutes, two or three times a week: but it was now within six days of the holidays, and the one Hugh most wished to see had not appeared. His uncle observed his wistful look when the door-bell rang, and drew his conclusions. He said, on the Wednesday before the breaking-up, that he was going to drive past the Crofton school; that it was such a fine day that he thought Hugh might go with him, and perhaps they might persuade some one to come home to dinner with them.
Hugh had never enjoyed the open air more than during this drive. He had yet much to learn about the country, and it was all as beautiful as it was new. His uncle pointed out to him the fieldfares wheeling in flocks over the fallows; and the rabbits in the warren, scampering away with their little white tails turned up; and the robin hopping in the frosty pathway; and the wild ducks splashing among the reeds in the marshes. They saw the cottagers’ children trying to collect snow enough from the small remains of the drifts to make snow-balls, and obliged to throw away the dirty snow that would melt, and would not bind. As they left the road, and turned through a copse, because Mr Shaw had business with Mr Sullivan’s gamekeeper, a pheasant flew out, whirring, from some ferns and brambles, and showed its long tail-feathers before it disappeared over the hedge. All these sights were new to Hugh: and all, after pain and confinement, looked beautiful and gay.
Mr Shaw could not stop for Hugh to get out at Crofton; so, when his arrival was seen, the boys were allowed to go out of bounds, as far as the gig, to speak to their school-fellow. Mr Shaw asked Tooke to mount, and go home with them for the day; and Tooke was so pleased,—so agreeably surprised to see Hugh look quite well and merry, that he willingly ran off to ask leave, and to wash his face, and change his jacket. When he had jumped in, and Hugh had bidden the rest good-bye, a sudden shyness came over his poor conscious visitor: and it was not lessened by Mr Shaw telling Tooke that he did not do credit to Crofton air,—so puny as he seemed: and that he looked at that moment more like one that had had a bad accident than Hugh did. When Mr Shaw perceived how the boy’s eyes filled with tears in an instant, he probably thought within himself that Tooke was sadly weak-spirited, and altogether more delicate than he had been aware of.
Hugh was full of questions about Crofton matters, however; and long before they reached Mr Shaw’s, they were chattering as busily as possible. But then it was all spoiled to Tooke again by seeing Hugh lifted out, and his crutches brought to him, and Agnes ready to take his hat and cloak, instead of his being able to run about, doing everything for himself.
The sofa had been left in Hugh’s room, and there was a fire there every afternoon, for him and Agnes, that their aunt might have the parlour to herself till tea-time. The three young people went therefore to this room after dinner. Agnes felt a little uncomfortable, as she always did when any Crofton boys came. They had so much to say to each other of things that she did not understand, and so very little to say to her, that she continually felt as if she was in the way. When she proposed, as usual, that Hugh should go through his exercises in walking and running (for she was indefatigable in helping him to learn to walk well, and superintended his practice every afternoon), he refused hastily and rather rudely. Of course, she could not know that he had a reason for wishing not to show off his lameness before Tooke; and she thought him unkind. He might indeed have remembered to ask her before to say nothing this afternoon about his exercises. She took out her work, and sat down at some distance from the boys; but they did not get on. It was very awkward. At last, the boys’ eyes met, and they saw that they should like to talk freely, if they could.
“Agnes,” said Hugh, “cannot you go somewhere, and leave us alone?”
“I hardly know where I can go,” replied Agnes. “I must not disturb aunt; and there is no fire anywhere else.”
“O, I am sure aunt won’t mind, for this one afternoon. You can be still as a mouse; and she can doze away, as if nobody was there.”