Now the shepherd understood perfectly what his wife had meant by saying it was Fairy’s fault; but it was evident the child had not the remotest suspicion of Mrs. Shelley’s meaning; she was too childlike and innocent (children of that day were less precocious and more like children than they are now), too free from vanity and self-consciousness to be aware that Jack had any other feeling for her than a brotherly affection, and it was equally evident that at present, at any rate, Fairy’s affection for Jack was of precisely the same character as her sisterly love for her foster-brother. Seeing this, the shepherd felt his wife was right in saying it would be far better for many reasons that Jack should go away; but he was so lost in thought that he forgot to reply to Fairy’s question, which, after waiting a minute or two, for she was accustomed to John’s slowness of speech, she repeated.
“No, my child, no, I am sure it was no fault of yours; don’t think any more about it. Here comes Jack with Mr. Leslie; I will go in and hear what the doctor says. Ask Mr. Leslie to wait in the kitchen for a minute, if he does not mind,” and the shepherd went indoors to hear the doctor’s report just as Jack and Mr. Leslie appeared.
“‘COME, CHILD, YOU HAVE HAD NO SUPPER YET.’”
See “The Shepherd’s Fairy,” [p. 219].
They both looked very grave, for Jack was a great pet of the rector’s, and he had already told him exactly how the accident had occurred; and Mr. Leslie was almost as anxious as Jack to hear the doctor’s report, for Jack seemed so absorbed in his anxiety about Charlie as to be unconscious of his own danger.
“How is he?” they exclaimed in a breath.
“I don’t know; Dr. Bates is still with him,” said Fairy; but a minute or two later John Shelley came out with the doctor’s report.
“Well, what news?” asked Mr. Leslie.
“He is still unconscious, and the doctor can’t say how it will go with him,” replied the shepherd.