“Nay, nay, Jean, I thank ye, but I canna’ eat nor drink nor sleep just at present.”
“Then try and take a nappie,” she insisted, smoothing the pillows and sheets in anxious preparation.
“A little later, Jean,” he replied a trifle impatiently.
She sighed patiently. “Then I’ll leave ye for a while,” and she walked toward the door. “Ye’re quite comfortable?” she asked. He nodded. Slowly she closed the door upon him and applied herself to the task of getting the midday meal.
Presently, a knock on the door startled her, interrupting her meager preparations. Hastily wiping her hands on her apron, she opened it, and there on the threshold stood two richly dressed strangers. “From the city,” she mentally said, noticing the elegance of their attire.
Courteously raising his high conical blue silk hat, the younger man addressed her. “Is not this Mistress Burns, whom I have the honor to address?” he asked.
“I am Mistress Burns,” replied Jean with dignity.
“We have come to see your husband. Will you inform him, my dear madam, that his friend Henry Mackenzie would be pleased to converse with him.”
Jean opened wide the door, a look of pleasure on her face. “Please to enter,” she said quietly. They did so. She showed them into the living-room and bade them be seated. “Robert will be out directly,” she said, and hastily went to tell Robert of their arrival.