“Ay, there ain’t much ’arm in milk,” responded Judy. “But, laws, Master Stuart, you do look warm! Will you ’ave a chair and set in the doorway to cool a bit? There’s a little bit of wind springing up.”
Mr. Crosbie shook his head.
“No, thanks, Judy; I must get on. There”—throwing a shilling upon the small counter—“take that for your kindness.”
“Eh, but, Master Stuart, I’d like you for a customer every day!” exclaimed the woman; and with a smile and a nod Mr. Crosbie strode away.
He passed through the narrow street, deserted now—for the sound of the children’s voices was wafted from the village school—and turned into a wide country-lane that led to the left of the cottages. After sauntering a few yards, he came in sight of a wood inclosed by a high wall, while through the branches of the trees glimpses of a gray-stone house were visible. Mr. Crosbie’s steps grew slower and slower as he approached this wall, and he walked past it in a very desultory fashion. Presently he reached a large iron gate through which a wide even drive was seen. Evidently Mr. Crosbie had no acquaintance with this drive, for he passed on, still down hill, till he came to a tiny spring trickling and babbling by the side of the road; and here he paused. He was out of the sun’s glare now, and felt almost cool; to his right hand stretched the path he had just traversed, to his left lay two lanes, one leading through the distant fields, the other turning abruptly. He thought for an instant, then turned in the direction of the latter, and just before him stood three cottages at equal distances from each other. He passed the first, and with a quick nervous hand unlatched the gate of the second, and went up the sweet-smelling garden.
The door was ajar, and as he knocked a faint, weak voice answered:
“Come in.”
Stuart Crosbie pushed open the door and entered the cottage. A woman was lying on a sofa, propped up with pillows, the whiteness of which rivaled her face in purity. She had a woolen shawl round her shoulders, although the heat was so oppressive, and looked very ill.
Stuart bent over her.
“How are you to-day, Mrs. Morris?” he asked, gently.