"Whew! he's split my ears open. Plague take the beast!" cried Mr. Wingate, hurrying forward, and now stepping with suspicious freedom from lameness. Amy hurried, too, wondering at his sudden recovery. "Oh, do you dislike his talk? I love it. I always laugh when I hear it, it is so absurd, and Pepita's was even funnier. She had a feminine note, so to speak, and she whined like a spoiled baby." "What do you know about spoiled babies?" "Why--nothing--only William Gladstone, he's a trifle self-willed, I think." "William Gladstone! What do you mean? Who are you talking about? Are you all crazy together?" "Not the English statesman, certainly. Just Mrs. Jones's youngest son. And I don't think we're crazy." "I think you are, the whole lot. Well, will you come into the house with me? How did you know the donkey was here? Who told you?" "He told me," laughed Amy. "Yes, I'll go in if you wish, if I can help you." "How did he tell you?" "I was gathering these ferns in the glen, and I heard him bray. See, aren't they beautiful? They're for the table to-morrow. The prettiest ferns in all Fairacres grow along the banks of 'Merrywater.'" "Yes, I know. I used to gather them when I was a child. My grandmother liked them, though she called them plain 'brakes.' So you're not afraid to trespass, then? And you're able to have a dinner-party even so soon after--and with all the pretended devotion. But Cuthbert--" Amy's hand went up to her kinsman's lips. It was a habit of hers, sometimes playfully sometimes earnestly used, to ward off anything she did not wish another to say to her, and she had done it before she thought; but having so done she would not withdraw her silent protest. This man should never say, nor would she ever hear, a word against her father. Of that she was determined, even though she must be rude to prevent. For a moment Archibald Wingate resented the girl's correction. Then, as her hand dropped to her side and her gaze to the ground, he spoke:-- "You are right. I had no business to so speak. I honor you for your filial loyalty and--Come into the house. I have something I wish to discuss with you. So you want to thank me for taking care of Balaam, do you? You may feel differently after you have heard what I have to say. Oh, you did give me a twinge, I tell you!" "Would it relieve the pain if I bathed the foot for you? Or is there anybody else to do it?" "Would you do that for _me_?" "Certainly." "Ring that bell." Amy obeyed. It was the familiar one which summoned, or had summoned, Cleena from her kitchen. A man answered the call. "Marshall, have a foot-bath brought in here. This young lady is going to dress my foot for me. For once there'll be no blundering heavy-handed servant to hurt me." Over and over and over Amy washed and soothed the red, misshapen foot. The repugnance she had felt to touching it had all vanished when she saw how acute must have been the old man's suffering and his now evident relief.