The doctor stayed to tea, partly that he might give Mrs. Weston a word of warning.
“She’s had rather a shock,” he said, when Jo was out of the room. “Of course, she thinks she’s all right, being fifteen, and Jo into the bargain, but I’d advise you to take care of her for a few days, and make her lie down a bit, and go to bed early. No need whatever to fuss, but just keep your eye on her. She’s had a heavy strain, finishing with a sudden call on every ounce of physical and mental strength she possessed. Conlan said it was almost a miracle that they escaped—only extraordinary quickness did it.”
So Jo found herself gently taken care of, for a few days, which embarrassed her greatly. She rather wondered that she felt listless and heavy-eyed; and her sleep was broken by bad dreams, in which she was perpetually snatching babies from the jaws of unpleasant prehistoric animals, rather like Chinese dragons. Always after one of these dreams it seemed that Mother was beside her, soothing her with a gentle voice. Mother had taken to sleeping on the verandah near them, declaring it was too hot in the house. Jo found herself very glad of her nearness. And after a few days the dreams went away, and she was a mere twin again, much to her relief.
Tim Conlan had brought Pilot back, and had found speech difficult when he talked to Jo’s parents.
“I never saw the man who’d ’ve done it,” he said. “Not in me life. The brute wasn’t twenty yards away, and he was fair wicked: them little kids of mine wouldn’t ’ve had the ghost of a show. All he wanted was something to kill, and he’d ’ve done them in but for that little slip of a girl.” He was silent a moment, his rugged face working. Like Jo, he had had bad dreams since.
“Well, I don’t suppose I’ll ever be able to pay her back,” he said. “There’s no payment for that sort of thing. But if I can do her, or any of her people, a good turn, any time in me life—well, me missus an’ me would walk barefoot fifty mile to do it, an’ glad of the chance.”
“There’s no question of payment, as you say,” Mr. Weston answered. “We’re thankful it was our girl who saved them. Remember, the bull was mine—I’d never have forgiven myself if he’d hurt them. I’ve been wishing to goodness I’d shot the brute instead of selling him.”
“Oh, well, that’s simple waste,” said Tim Conlan, amazed. “You gotter remember he’s a real good Jersey!”
CHAPTER XIV
GENTLEMEN ADVENTURERS
‟MOTHER, could Rex and I go for a picnic?” Billy’s eager face showed at the dining-room window. Behind him Rex peeped in, more sober, but evidently just as anxious.