Sewell in
the evening and asked if he could tell him of his wife's condition.
"I was sent for this morning to Harlow House," he answered.
"Is she ill--worse?"
"No. She is fretting. She ought to fret. I gave her some soothing
medicine. I am not sure I did right."
"O Sewell, what shall I do?"
"Go to Madame Hatton. She is a good, wise woman. She is not in love with
her daughter-in-law, but she is as just as women ever are. She will give
you far better counsel than a mere man can offer you."
So late as it was, John rode up to Hatton Hall. It had begun to rain but
he heeded not any physical discomfort. Still he had a pleasant feeling
when he saw the blaze of Hatton hearthfire brightening the dark shadows
of the dripping trees. And he suddenly sent his boyish "hello" before
him, so it was Mrs. Hatton herself who opened the big hall door, who
stood in the glow of the hall lamp to welcome him, and who between
laughing and scolding sent him to his old room to change his wet
clothing.
He came back to her with a smile and a dry coat, saying, "Dear mother,
you keep all the same upstairs.
Pages:
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197