Neither of us spoke of the boat, but we both thought of it. That
was made apparent by our avoidance of the subject, and by our
agreeing--without agreement--to make my recovery of the use of my hands
a question of so many hours, not of so many weeks.

My first question when I saw Herbert had been of course, whether all
was well down the river? As he replied in the affirmative, with perfect
confidence and cheerfulness, we did not resume the subject until the day
was wearing away. But then, as Herbert changed the bandages, more by
the light of the fire than by the outer light, he went back to it
spontaneously.

"I sat with Provis last night, Handel, two good hours."

"Where was Clara?"

"Dear little thing!" said Herbert. "She was up and down with
Gruffandgrim all the evening. He was perpetually pegging at the floor
the moment she left his sight. I doubt if he can hold out long, though.
What with rum and pepper,--and pepper and rum,--I should think his
pegging must be nearly over."

"And then you will be married, Herbert?"

"How can I take care of the dear child otherwise?--Lay your arm out upon
the back of the sofa, my dear boy, and I'll sit down here, and get the
bandage off so gradually that you shall not know when it comes. I was
speaking of Provis. Do you know, Handel, he improves?"