"He does know," said Dr. Lavendar, as the man again retired to his
pantry. "But, after all, the subject of the quarrel doesn't make any
difference. To think that the boy struck him! That must be a
satisfaction to Benjamin."
"A satisfaction?" William repeated, bewildered.
But Dr. Lavendar did not explain. He went on up-stairs, and sat beside
the very old man, listening to his muffled talk, and saying what he
could of commonplace things. Once Benjamin Wright asked about Mrs.
Richie:
"That female at the S-Stuffed Animal House-how is she? Poor cr-
creeter; pretty creeter! Tell her--"
"What, Benjamin?"
"Nothing." And then abruptly, "It was my fault. I made him angry. Tell
her."
He did not refer to her again; nor did he speak of the boy, except at
the very end. The end came the week that David was staying at the
Rectory; and perhaps Dr. Lavendar's pitying absorption in that dreary
dying, made him give less thought to the pleasure as well as the
perplexity of the child's presence; though certainly, when he got back
from his daily visit at The Top, he found David a great comfort. Dr.
Lavendar stopped twice that week to see Mrs. Richie, but each time she
sent word that she was engaged, would he excuse her? "Engaged," in the
sense of not wishing to see a neighbor, was a new word in Old Chester.
Dr. Lavendar did not insist. He went on up the hill to that other
house, where, also, there was a deep preoccupation which Benjamin
Wright had called "narrowing"; but here he was not shut out.
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