me better last night. A very strong boy I know
will push my carriage."

Dr. Craven felt rather alarmed. If this tiresome
hysterical boy should chance to get well he
himself would lose all chance of inheriting Misselthwaite;
but he was not an unscrupulous man,
though he was a weak one, and he did not intend to
let him run into actual danger.

"He must be a strong boy and a steady boy,"
he said. "And I must know something about
him. Who is he? What is his name?"

"It's Dickon," Mary spoke up suddenly. She
felt somehow that everybody who knew the moor
must know Dickon. And she was right, too. She
saw that in a moment Dr. Craven's serious face relaxed
into a relieved smile.

"Oh, Dickon," he said. "If it is Dickon you
will be safe enough. He's as strong as a moor
pony, is Dickon."

"And he's trusty," said Mary. "He's th'
trustiest lad i' Yorkshire." She had been talking
Yorkshire to Colin and she forgot herself.

"Did Dickon teach you that?" asked Dr. Craven,
laughing outright.

"I'm learning it as if it was French," said Mary
rather coldly. "It's like a native dialect in India.
Very clever people try to learn them. I like
it and so does Colin."

[[242]]

p241 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p242w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p243

v?