'I think it's worse for Dick than for any one else,' declared Alan, who had joined the group; he could not imagine a more terrible life than the one of utter helplessness to which Dick was condemned.
'So it is,' returned Mrs. Peet, with a heavy sigh, as she gazed at her son with tears in her eyes, 'and he is so patient! Why, you never so much as hear a grumble, nor a fret! Now, what do you think his great wish is—what he is always wanting, miss?'
'If it is anything we can do—— ' began Marjorie.
'That it isn't, miss, nor nobody else. He wants some news of the man what done him the mischief. Dick's that soft. And—and, well, he is an angel. His father don't understand it, but Dick has really forgiven that man. He's downright anxious to hear how that rascal's been getting on.'
'Why should he care about that?' said Alan, who knew very little of Dick's story.
'He's afraid that the man thinks he's killed him, and that perhaps he's made wickeder than he was before,' answered Mrs. Peet, shaking her head. 'He said he'd die satisfied if he could hear that the fellow had repented.'
'Perhaps he will some day,' said Estelle, looking with pity at Dick's face.
''Tisn't likely, Miss. We shall never be likely to meet Dick's enemy; don't you believe it! But it pleases him to think he will, so I don't gainsay him.'
'I shall hope he will,' returned Estelle, as her cousins made a move to go back to the gardens.
The children were to have tea on the lawn with Lady Coke, and they could see preparations even now being made for it. They did not often have such a treat: Lady Coke, sweet and loving as she always was to her great-nephews and nieces, was too old and delicate to indulge in their companionship for very long at a time. The children were on their quietest behaviour with her, but the little voices tired her unconsciously, and she would not spare herself while they were with her.