Chapter XV.
Mr. Honeywood's Fancies.
Though the Sun had not yet risen, I found a bright little Fire already kindled in the Parlour, and the little oval Table drawn close to it, and spread for Breakfast, with strong Tea and hot Toast awaiting me on the Hob. I felt very grateful to Prudence for this Kindness; and had scarce seated myself when I heard the soft Tap of my Mother's Ivory-headed Walking-cane as she came down Stairs. I hastened to receive her; she kissed my Forehead, and then looked at me with anxious Affection.
"You are weary, my dear Love," said she, "and no wonder. What kind of a Night?"
"He was feverish, dear Mother."
"And wandering, doubtless—I see it was so. Were you frightened?"
"Not much—you know I had nursed Gatty."
"Ah, poor Gatty!—a very different Patient—"
"Yes, Mother; but his Ramblings gave me no Distress, except as they betokened the height of his Fever—He fancied himself playing Cards:—and seemed to think People were dancing. He spoke very kindly of you."
My Mother wiped her Eyes. "That has been the solitary Alleviation all along," said she. "His old Liking for me has returned."