“Do not talk about it, my lord,” said Dick. “Here, take this; it may not be first-rate soup, but I think it will do you good.”
As he spoke he placed the shell to the lips of his patient, who taking it in both his hands, drank off the contents.
“First-rate stuff, whatever it is,” murmured Lord Reginald. “Pray give me some more, I feel it putting new life into me. I have had a narrow escape, I suspect. If it hadn’t been for you, Hargrave, I should have died; I am fully aware of that.”
“I only did my duty, and I am thankful to see your lordship so much better,” said Dick.
“You are a generous, noble fellow, Hargrave, that I know, for, after the way I treated you, I had no right to expect that you would trouble yourself about me.”
“I should never have forgiven myself if I hadn’t done my best to look after your lordship,” answered Dick, turning away to make some of the cooling drink, which had hitherto proved so beneficial to his patient.
“Hargrave, my dear fellow,” said Lord Reginald, in a comparatively strong tone of voice, “can you really forgive me?”
“My lord, I am sure I need your forgiveness, so pray don’t ask me to forgive you, though I do so most heartily. Let bygones be bygones. It will be the happiest day of my life when I see you restored to perfect health.”
“Hargrave, I wonder I could have been guilty of persecuting a man capable of such generous conduct,” exclaimed Lord Reginald.
“Again I say, my lord, don’t talk about it,” answered Dick, observing that Lord Reginald was becoming too much agitated. “I trust in a short time that you will be well enough to say what you think fit; but I want you to understand that not a particle of ill feeling, to the best of my belief, remains in my heart.”