“Plucked! I never heard of such a thing. I think it is a great shame such a nice honest fellow should be so ill-used, and when all his pretty things have been stolen too! Do you know, they’ve taken up young Hornblower; but his friends have made off with the things, and they say they are in the melting-pot by this time, and there’s no chance of recovering them.”
“I don’t think he cares much now, poor fellow. Did you see Mrs. Hornblower?”
“No; by the time I could get my hat on she had heard it, poor thing, and was gone to Backsworth; for he’s there, in the county gaol; was taken at the station, I believe; I don’t half understand it.”
Her manner was indeed strange and flighty; and though she recurred to questions about the Ordination and the Bowaters, Julius perceived that she was forcing her attention to the answers as if trying to stave off his inquiries, and he came to closer quarters. “How is Terry? Has Dr. Worth been here?”
“Yes; but not till very late. He says he never was so busy.”
“Rosamond, what is it? What did he say of Terry?”
“He said”—she drew a long breath—“he says it is the Water Lane fever.”
“Terry, my dear—”
She held him down with a hand on his shoulder—
“Be quiet. Finish your dinner. Dr. Worth said the great point was to keep strong, and not be overdone, nor to go into infected air tired and hungry. I would not have let you come in if there had been any help for it; and now I’ll not have you go near him till you’ve made a good meal.”