“In her room, Mr. Huddleston.”
“What is she doing?”
“Packing her little trunk. She says she is going to Kendal.”
“She ought not to go to Kendal. She must not go.”
“She’s right enough in going, Mr. Huddleston, and she is sure to go.”
“I never heard anything like this!” cried Father. He really was amazed. It was household rebellion. “Ann,” he continued, “go upstairs and remind your mistress that John Henry has been sickly for two weeks. I have myself noticed the child looking far from well.”
“Yes, sir, the child is sickly, but her brother is dying.”
“Do you think the child should be left?”
“It would be worse if the brother died alone. I will look after John, Mr. Huddleston.”
Then Father went upstairs, and Mother went by the night mail, and we did not see her again for nearly three weeks.