Quicksilver | Page 6

I could," said the doctor. "Oh yes, sir."
"Ah, well; we will not argue," said Sir James good-humouredly.
"No," said the doctor, "we will not argue."
But they did argue all the same, till they had had their coffee, when they argued again, and then joined the ladies in the drawing-room, where Master Edgar was eating cake, and dropping currants and crumbs between the leaves of a valuable illustrated book, which he turned over with fingers in a terrible state of stick,--the consequence being that he added illustrations--prints of his fingers in brown.
"Have you settled your debate, Dr Grayson!" said Lady Danby, smiling.
"No, madam; I shall have to prove my theory to your husband, and it will take time."
"My dear James, what is the matter!" said her ladyship as a howl arose.
"Pa says I'm to go to bed, ma, and it's only ten; and you promised me I might sit up as long as I liked."
"How can you make such foolish promises, Maria?" said Sir James petulantly. "There, hold your tongue, sir, and you may stay another half-hour."
"But ma said I might stop up as long as I liked," howled Master Edgar.
"Then for goodness' sake stop up all night, sir," said Sir James impatiently; and Master Edgar stayed till the visitors had gone.
"Enjoyed your evening, my dear?" said the doctor.
"Ye-es, papa," said his daughter; "I--"
"Might have enjoyed it more. Really, Helen, it is absurd. That man opposed my theory tooth and nail, and all the time he kept on proving it by indulging that boy. I say you can make what you like of a boy. Now what's he making of that boy?"
"Sir James said he should make him a statesman," said Helen, smiling.
"But he is making him a nuisance instead. Good-night."
"Good-night, papa."
"Oh, by the way, my dear, I shall have to prove my theory."
"Indeed, papa!"
"Yes. Good-night."
CHAPTER FOUR.
THE CHOICE OF A BOY.
Next morning Dr Grayson took his gold-headed cane, and walked down to the workhouse.
Upon dragging at the bell the porter opened the gate obsequiously, and sent a messenger to tell the master Dr Grayson had called.
"Good morning, Hippetts," said the doctor, who being a Poor-Law Guardian, and a wealthy inhabitant of the place, was received with smiles by the important master.
"Good morning, sir. Called to look round."
"No, Hippetts, no," said the doctor, in the tone and manner of one making an inquiry about some ordinary article of merchandise; "got any boys?"
"Boys, sir; the house swarms with them."
"Ah, well, show me some."
"Show you some, sir?"
"Yes. I want a boy."
"Certainly, sir. This way, sir. About what age, sir!"
"Eleven or twelve--not particular," said the doctor. Then to himself: "About the age of young Danby."
"I see, sir," said the master. "Stout, strong, useful boy for a buttons."
"Nonsense!" said the doctor testily, "I want a boy to adopt."
"Oh!" said the master staring, and wondering whether rich philosophical Dr Grayson was in his right mind.
He led the way along some whitewashed passages, and across a gravel yard, to a long, low building, from which came the well-known humming hum of many voices, among which a kind of chorus could be distinguished, and from time to time the sharp striking of a cane upon a desk, followed by a penetrating "Hush! hush!"
As the master opened the door, a hot puff of stuffy, unpleasantly close air came out, and the noise ceased as if by magic, though there were about three hundred boys in the long, open-roofed room.
The doctor cast his eye round and saw a crowd of heads, the schoolmaster, and besides these--whitewash. The walls, the ceiling, the beams were all whitewashed. The floor was hearth-stoned, but it seemed to be whitewashed, and even the boys' faces appeared to have been touched over with a thin solution laid on with the whitewash brush.
Every eye was turned upon the visitor, and the doctor frowned as he looked round at the pallid, wan-looking, inanimate countenances which offered themselves to his view. The boys were not badly fed; they were clean; they were warmly clad; but they looked as if the food they ate did them no good, and was not enjoyed; as if they were too clean; and as if their clothes were not comfortable. Every face seemed to have been squeezed into the same mould, to grow it into one particular make, which was inexpressive, inanimate, and dull, while they all wore the look of being on the high-road to old-manism without having been allowed to stop and play on the way, and be boys.
"Hush! hush!" came from the schoolmaster, and a pin might have been heard to fall.
The boys devoured the doctor with their eyes. He was a stranger. It was something to see, and it was a break in the horrible monotony of their existence. Had they known the object of the visit, a tremendous yell would have