“But you have drawn suspicion upon you. Now, Mrs. Cameron certainly doesn’t suspect me. See what she has given me: this beautiful new two-shilling piece. She said I was a very kind boy, and had done my best to find her treasure for her.”
“Oh, Dave, how could you take it!”
“Couldn’t I, just! I’m not a little muff, like you. I intend to buy a set of wickets with this. Well, good-night, Fly; nobody need fear hydrophobia after this good day’s work.”
CHAPTER XV.
A DILEMMA.
A night’s sleep had by no means improved Mrs. Cameron’s temper. She came downstairs the next morning so snappish and disagreeable, so much inclined to find fault with everybody, and so little disposed to see the faintest gleam of light in any direction, that the children almost regretted Scorpion’s absence, and began to wonder if, after all, he was not a sort of safety-valve for Mrs. Cameron, and more or less essential to her existence.
Hitherto this good woman had not seen her brother-in-law; and it was both Helen’s and Polly’s constant aim to keep her from the sick room.
It was several days now since the Doctor was pronounced quite out of danger; but the affection of his eyes which had caused his children so many anxious fears, had become much worse. As the London oculist had told him, any shock or chill would do this; and there was now no doubt whatever that for a time, at least, he would have to live in a state of total darkness.