"I shall see you again," he said. "You will stay some little while now you are here?"
"Oh yes," Aldyth said, smiling brightly on him.
He had said little, but his manner had told her how glad he was to see her. And despite the sad occasion of her coming, Aldyth was glad to find herself at Woodham.
After the noise and stir of London, the repose of the country was delightful. The old High Street had the same familiar aspect. There was Mrs. Bland in the bow-window, smiling and nodding. Miss Rudkin's high cap and sausage-like curls appeared above the wire blind on the opposite side of road.
And now they had turned from the town, and were on the long straight road to Wyndham. The scent of hay was wafted across the hedges; fields of mellowing corn, with poppies glowing here and there, bowed before the breeze; cattle rested beneath the trees, or cooled themselves in the ponds; all the broad, flat landscape seemed to breathe peace, And with a keen sense of contrast, Aldyth recalled to mind the dim, close streets of Whitechapel.
After she had gathered all that old John could tell her of her uncle's illness, she paid little heed to his garrulous repetition of the facts. She gazed lovingly on every familiar scene, and let the restful beauty of the day enter into her heart.
As they drove up to the Hall, Guy appeared on the steps to welcome her. He looked pale and excited, and he talked rapidly, though in subdued tones, as he led her into the house.
"He is no better," he said; "unconscious most of the time, though sometimes he seems to understand what we say. He keeps talking, but so incoherently it is difficult to understand him. But he has asked for you several times; he utters your name distinctly. No, you must not go up stairs till you have taken something. There is luncheon for you in the dining room. What will you have? Coffee? Wine? You shall have what you like, but you must take something."
"Poor uncle!" said Aldyth, sitting down and allowing Guy to wait on her. "Does he suffer much, do you think?"
"The doctor says not," Guy replied. "It is sad to see the poor old man lie in such a state; but still at his great age, it is not to be expected that he can recover. Eighty-one! Who would wish to live longer than that?"