“I don’t know what you’ll say, Lewis. He would come here. Llewellyn is responsible,” said the Squire.
“Of course we will take him. How are we to get him down, Llewellyn?”
“He’s rather heavy,” said the young man, whose arms were stiff, “but if you would hold him while I get out, father, I might lift him.”
The workman left his bee-hives, and between them they carried the sufferer in. Isoline, out of sight, watched them from over the staircase with horror in her face. Physical pain was a thing she could understand.
After some discussion, it was settled that Llewellyn should stay and take charge of Howlie; he would take no denial, and Mr. Fenton had to give in. The boy was to have a bed in a large spare room behind the kitchen, and Llewellyn a mattress on the floor near him. Mr. Lewis made no remonstrance when he saw how his eyes followed the young man.
“I’ll take care of him entirely,” said Llewellyn; “you need have no trouble, sir. I’ve looked after sick things often enough. You won’t mind letting me stay a day or two?”
“I should even like it,” replied the Vicar, laying his hand on his shoulder.
The cook was making things ready to get Howlie to bed, and Mr. Fenton was anxious to start for home; it was long past noon, and he had to send his son’s things over from Waterchurch. The doctor, who was coming out to Crishowell, was to call late in the afternoon.
Isoline kept herself carefully out of the way; a meeting with Mr. Fenton would be extremely awkward, and she had no desire to see Llewellyn at any time. Her uncle felt sorry for her, though he mentally applauded her good sense in remaining up-stairs, and he slipped away for a moment to tell her what had happened.
She was sitting by the window of her room as he entered, looking rather worried; anything was unwelcome which recalled to her the entanglement of which she longed so heartily to be free. The gig stood outside at the end of the garden; it was by no means new, and though the Squire looked carefully after everything connected with the stable, it was a shabby article. Her glance wandered over it with distaste.