Chapter 15: An Unwelcome Proposal

Roy was not well for some time after this episode. He had a bad bronchial attack, and was in the hands of his old nurse again.

“It do seem as if everything conspires to make you a delicate lad,” she said one day; “it beats me how you come through it as well as you do! But ‘tis mostly your thoughtless ways that leads you into trouble.”

“I’m sorry,” Roy said, cheerfully; “but I expect I’m stronger than I look. I never shall be much of a fellow, I know; but even with my cork leg I can do a good deal, can’t I?”

“You’re worth two of Master Dudley!” ejaculated the fond nurse, but this assertion was of course questioned.

“I shall never be like Dudley, never! Not in looks, or strength, or goodness. He is better than I am all round!”

Miss Bertram came into the room at this moment.

“Ah, nurse,” she said, in her bright, brisk way; “he is like a cat, isn’t he? Has nine lives, I’m sure. There never was such a boy for getting into scrapes. I’m in fear whenever he is out of our sight now that he may never come back again.”

“Now, Aunt Judy, you wouldn’t have liked me not to have got out to that baby?”

“I should like some one else to have done it.”

“Yes, I suppose Dudley would have done it,” and Roy’s tone was a little sad; “but you see I wanted to help. As he was saying to me this morning, he will have many more chances than I when he gets bigger and goes out to India to do good to people. I shall have to stop at home now, for I shall never be able to ride, he will have all the big opportunities, and I must be content with the little ones.”

“You talk like a little old grandfather, sometimes,” said Miss Bertram, laughing, as she sat down beside him. “You must make the most of David while he is with you, for I have heard from his stepfather this morning, and he wishes him sent to school at once.”

Roy’s eyes opened wide.

“But I shall go too, shan’t I, Aunt Judy?”

“I am afraid not just yet. You are not fit to rough it; besides we couldn’t lose both our boys!”

“But I must go if Dudley goes, I must!” and Roy’s tone was passionate now. “I won’t have him go away from me—I’ve lost Rob, and that is bad enough—You wouldn’t take Dudley away from me, too, Aunt Judy!”

“Hush, hush, we will not talk any more about it now. He will not go till after Easter, and that won’t be here yet.”

Miss Bertram was sorry she had broached the subject, when she saw Roy’s distress, and going downstairs sent Dudley up to play with him.

Later on when she was sitting with her mother in the drawing-room a small head appeared. “May I come in, granny?”

It was Dudley, and his round and rosy face was unusually solemn. Marching in he took up his position on the hearth-rug, his back to the fire, and with his hands deep in his pockets, he turned his face rather defiantly toward his grandmother.

“Granny, I’m not going to school without Roy.”

“Hoighty-toity! What next, I wonder. Is that the way for little boys to speak to their elders. You will do what you are told as long as you are in my house, as your father did before you.”