"One of the lodgers will sell me one, sir, if you don't mind waiting."
"We will wait."
"Martha!" called Mrs. Flower; but Martha was asleep, and did not speak. "It's my sister, sir; I thought she might be awake. I won't be gone a minute."
She ran to another room, and obtaining the candle, returned with it alight. Her visitors sighed at the misery it displayed. Martha's arms were spread upon the table, and her head rested upon them. Prue pulled her mother's dress.
"Who is she, mother?"
"Your aunt Martha."
Prue went to the sleeping woman, and tried to get a glimpse of her face.
"I have bad news to tell you about your husband," said Grantham, speaking low, so that the child should not hear. "He has met with an accident, and has been taken to Charing Cross Hospital."
He broke the news to her in a gentle voice, and she received it without emotion. Her husband had crushed all love for him from her breast long since, and she had felt for years that it would be a happy release if he were dead.
"Is he much hurt, sir?" she asked, with tearless eyes.