feeling. Unable to find anything very appropriate to say, in order to comfort her, he began to cast about in his mind what he could do: he smiled: the lad's smile gave wondrous transparency to his physiognomy.
"Eureka!" he cried. "I'll set all straight by-and-by. You are better now, Miss Caroline; walk forward," he urged.
Not reflecting that it would be more difficult for Miss Helstone than for himself to climb a wall or penetrate a hedge, he piloted her by a short cut which led to no gate. The consequence was he had to help her over some formidable obstacles, and, while he railed at her for helplessness, he perfectly liked to feel himself of use.
"Martin, before we separate, assure me seriously, and on your word of honour, that Mr. Moore is better."
"How very much you think of that Moore!"
"No—but—many of his friends may ask me, and I wish to be able to give an authentic answer."
"You may tell them he is well enough, only idle: you may tell them that he takes mutton-chops for dinner, and the best of arrowroot for supper. I intercepted a bason myself one night on its way up-stairs, and ate half of it."
"And who waits on him, Martin? Who nurses him?"
"Nurses him?—the great baby! Why, a woman as round and big as our largest water-butt—a rough, hard-favoured old girl. I make no doubt she leads him a rich life: nobody else is let near him: he
