“Of course. And then he will tell you all about your people, and that will do just as well as you going to see them; and better.”
Off came Jael's bonnet with wonderful celerity.
“Get the whole story out of him,” said Dr. Amboyne. “It is well worth your attention. As for me, I must go as soon as I have prescribed for you. What is the matter?”
“The matter is that there's nothing the matter; prescribe for that. And that I'm a goose—prescribe for that—and don't read the newspapers; prescribe for that.”
“Well, then, I prescribe the Hillsborough Liberal. It has drawn a strong picture of this outrage, and shown its teeth to the Trades. And, if I might advise a lady of your age and experience, I would say, in future always read the newspapers. They are, compared with books, what machinery is compared with hand-labor. But, in this one instance, go to the fountain-head, and ask Mr. Henry Little there, to tell you his own tragedy, with all the ins and outs.”
“Ah! if he would,” said Grace, turning her eyes on Henry. “But he is not so communicative to poor us. Is he, Jael?”
“No, miss.”
“He never even told us his name. Did he, Jael?”
“No, miss. He is very close.”
“Open him then,” said the doctor. “Come, come, there are a pair of you; and evidently disposed to act in concert; if you can not turn a man inside out, I disown you; you are a discredit to your sex.” He then shook hands with all three of them, and rolled away.