“Heaven bless you for your goodness, my lady!” returned Mrs. David. “I ain’t one to give way to tears often; but you can understand——”
“Yes, I understand,” whispered Margery, standing and looking down at the sleeping child, while Mrs. David went on with her account of the accident.
“It were just the merest chance the gentleman were on the spot,” she said. “He’d come from the town, and was walking to Wavemouth, along the shore, when he saw little Jim washed off his feet, and he was in the water in an instant.”
“He was brave!” Margery interjected, quietly.
“Ay, that he was; and it’ll never be forgotten by us, though we live to hundreds! But won’t you sit down, my lady? I expects the gentleman here every minute to inquire after Jim.”
“I am rested now, and I think I will make a start.”
Margery walked to the little window and looked out. The wind was raging just as fiercely as ever, and the rain was beating furiously against the panes.
“Let me give you some tea, my lady,” urged Mrs. David. “I’ll have it ready in an instant.”
Margery shook her head.
“No, thank you, Mrs. David; I must be gone. I will——”