Melissa was his only friend and comforter. The children, and the servants who were not too busily engaged with their own affairs, openly scoffed at the love-sick young gentleman. Wilberforce sustained a bloody nose in retaliation and Watson, being a special offender, met with a painful and unaccountable accident one day while passing between the kitchen and the milk-house. A full-sized brick dropped from heaven knows where--(it must have come from heaven judging by the way it felt)--and as Watson's hat happened to be directly in the path of its descent the unfortunate footman was unable to tease Frederick for the better part of two days immediately thereafter and had to have six stitches taken in his head besides. Oddly enough, the only place from which a brick was found to be missing was in the walk leading to the stables, and Butts, being a thrifty soul, filled up the vacant spot with the heaven-sent substitute, having found on investigation that it fitted the vacuum perfectly. It was Melissa who kept Watson from taking out a warrant for young Master Frederick. She spoke very sharply to the damaged footman about something that had completely escaped the notice of Mr. Bingle, who, being no smoker, wouldn't have missed them if Watson had taken a whole handful of cigars a day instead of two or three twice a week the year round. The privileged maid had read love stories from the time she was ten years old up to the beginning of her affair with Diggs the butler. The pleasant discovery that the mighty Diggs had taken a shine to her quite destroyed all of her interest in romance as it is written. She was not long in finding out that the people who write love-stories are not to be depended upon for accuracy in the depiction of passion. Diggs gave her an entirely new idea of manly devotion. Instead of adhering to the well-known and well-preserved formulas set down by the fictionists he behaved in a perfectly astonishing manner. He became acutely bashful and apprehensive, so much so, in fact, that for a while Melissa imagined that Mr. Bingle had given him notice because of the mistletoe episode on Christmas Eve. The poor fellow seemed to be dodging her all the time. And when she came upon him suddenly or unexpectedly he always began winding his watch and talking about the extraordinary resemblance she bore to a girl he had once known in England. The shock, therefore, was tremendous when Diggs asked her if she thought she could ever learn to care for him in THAT way. It was almost a week before Melissa could think of an answer to this astonishing question. It was "yes." And so, having but recently suffered the surprise of her life, Melissa rushed to the succour of young Frederick. She whispered words of encouragement into the ear of the despairing youngster, and urged him to stand by his guns.