“Is Jennie much distressed, sir?” inquired Judy, sympathetically.
“Yes, madam. She is very much agitated.”
“May I go to her? Could I do her any good?”
“I feel sure you could. I should feel very grateful to you.”
Judy hurried into the house and got her wraps, and came out to join the rector in his walk homeward.
At the rectory door they were met by Mrs. Campbell, who, after very gravely saluting Judy and thanking her for coming, turned to the rector and inquired:
“What was all that the wretched man was rambling about in his last hour? Was there any foundation of truth in it?”
“It was all truth, Hetty, from foundation rock—to carry out your simile—to capping stone; and baby Essie is now Countess of Engelmeed in her own right and a ward in chancery.”
“Well, well, well! She doesn’t know it—Jennie, I mean, of course. She thinks he was out of his head.”
“Yes, I saw she did; but it is true,” said the rector, as they entered the house.