to the servants' hall where he might dry them. He said nothing, but
looked much sadder than usual as he stood there before the fire. A
coarse but honest servant, Leonard Hust, who had been born on the
estate, and whose father before him had been a servant in Sir Robert's
household, came stealthily to Charles's side and busied himself in
helping him to arrange his clothes and dry them, while he smoothed the
boy's hair and wiped his face.

"Never mind, master Charles," said the honest fellow, noticing the
trembling lips of the handsome boy; "never mind, it's a gallant act in
you, and though I say it, who shouldn't, perhaps, master Robert never
would have dared to do it; he hasn't got half your courage and strength,
though he's bigger and older."

A tear was all the answer that the boy vouchsafed to his honest effort
at consolation. He too proud to make a confidant of the servant, or to
confide to him of his father's conduct, or even that of Robert. Leonard
Hust watched the boy carefully, and entered keenly into his feelings,
until at last he said:

"I wasn't the only one who saw you save her ladyship's pet, master
Charles."

"It wasn't father or mother that saw it?" asked Charles, quickly, as he
recalled the injustice he had just experienced at their hands, under
Robert's prompting.

"No, master Charles."

"Was it cousin Helen?" continued the boy.