"To be sure! to be sure! A fly! But my child—my little Adela!" he said, too much agitated to take in what I had said; at least, he didn't fully. "My little Adela! To be wet through at this time of year,—and so late!"
"No; not Miss Adela, sir," I said. "I was able to get her to dry ground before the cart turned over."
Nothing would content Mr. Laurence but hearing the whole. He listened and questioned, and wouldn't stir or let me go till he understood exactly what had happened. By that time Matilda knocked at the door, and was told to come in.
"I hope I've done right, sir," she said. "I have ordered the fly to be here as quick as possible; and the clothes are all ready. Would you like me to go to the farm, sir, and see if I can help?"
"Well, yes; I think that might be best, perhaps," hesitated Mr. Laurence. "Stay—I am not sure—" And she had to wait while he stood up and shook my hand warmly. "I owe you a great deal, Miles," said he. "You once saved the life of my godson; and now, it may be, you have saved the life of my grandchild too, by your promptitude. She is a delicate little creature, and a chill is a dangerous thing. I hope Crane and Nurse will not suffer. Yes, pray go, Matilda; certainly you had better go. And tell Mr. Bertram that I wish him and Miss Adela to return at once. If the others are not ready, the fly can go again for them."
"May I change my wet things, sir, now?" I asked.
"Why, to be sure! You don't mean to say you are standing in damp clothes all this time?" exclaimed Mr. Laurence. "Be off at once, Miles, and don't waste a moment. Get into dry clothes directly, or we shall have you ill."
I did not expect that, for I was hardy, and used to getting wet; but, naturally enough, both Mrs. Crane and Nurse caught bad colds, and Mrs. Crane especially was bad enough to be in bed for a week.
A good ten days passed before I saw her again, and all that time others in the house were much more civil to me than they had yet been. Nurse thanked me more than once for getting her out of the pond, and Miss Adela was always talking about it.
The first appearance of Mrs. Crane was at tea, and I saw directly that I wasn't to be treated any more as an interloper. She gave me the best of everything on the table, and she talked to me politely, and, altogether, she put me on a footing with herself, which certainly she had never done before. It wasn't Mrs. Crane's way to acknowledge herself in the wrong, or to say she was sorry for the past, and I don't think she ever went so far as actually to thank me for pulling her out of the pond; but "actions speak louder than words," and she made a difference in her manner of treating me, which nobody could have mistaken.