"Aye, that's just like him," says the woman with a gratified look as she acknowledges the young man's salutation with a pleased little bow, "he would lift his hat to a poor beggar woman just as quickly as to a duchess; and that's what makes every one about here worship him so. There's no thoughts of class or the like with Dr. John Sinclair, miss; and one to him is as good as another, where there's help and kindness needed. But there now, I am wasting your time, Miss Merivale, as well as my own. My husband always tells me mine is a terrible tongue to go, especially when any talk of the young doctor comes up, for then I always feel as if I could never say enough for him. Besides everything else he has done, he pulled my youngest boy through with croup, when every one else had given him up; and I have never forgotten that—no, nor ever shall. Well, miss, I think you will do well to go to Mrs. Phips. I know her grand-daughter is a decent sort of girl, though she ain't very bright. But I do think it would be worth trying her, perhaps. Oh, no thanks needed, I'm sure, miss," as Honor expresses gratitude for the information. "Good-day to you, miss; and I hope the girl may suit."
CHAPTER XIX.
A VISIT FROM AUNT SOPHIA AND THE HORTON BOYS.
After a tolerably satisfactory interview with Mrs. Phips and her granddaughter Becky, Honor at length returns home, where she finds unusual excitement reigning, all sorts of unexpected things having happened in her absence.
The moment her hand touches the latch of the gate Molly comes flying down the garden to meet her, her eyes sparkling, her hair blown about, her apron all awry.
"Such news!" she cries breathlessly. "That nice clergyman has been here, and he wants his little girl to have music lessons; so now I've got a real live pupil, Honor! Isn't that splendid? To be sure they can't give very good pay," she adds, a little ruefully, "but it will all help, won't it?"
"Of course it will, dear!" says Honor, kissing her. "I am so glad—"
Molly cuts her short:
"But that isn't all," she says. "Aunt's here, sitting with her bonnet on as usual, though we've all had a try to make her take it off. And mother seems quite cheered up. Well, then Hugh and Regy arrived by the same train, Hugh nearly bursting with most important news. Come along in; you can go and talk to them all while Doris and I finish getting the tea. Oh, and give me the key of the store-cupboard; I want to get out some of that lovely jam the Mr. Talboys sent Daisy. The boys wanted to come and help in the kitchen, but I shut them out and locked the door. I do hope Doris hasn't let them in in my absence!"
And being tormented with doubt on this score Molly retires in haste, and Honor enters the drawing-room, where she finds Daisy, with the assistance of Miss Celestine Ermyntrude Talboys—as she has persisted in naming her doll,—gravely doing the honours to Hugh and Regy, while her mother and aunt are seated close together in earnest confidential conversation.