Drusilla paced up and down the floor in great excitement. The nearer she came to her journey’s end the more anxious and agitated she felt.
Mammy stood and watched her in growing wonder. Suddenly mammy spoke out:
“What wedding this they all talking ’bout? I thought we was agoing to see a wery sick man, not a wedding.”
“Perhaps to see both, nurse! But pray do not talk to me if you can help it. I am scarcely sane!”
“Which such has been my opinion for some time past,” said mammy, sententiously, leaving her patient to pace up and down the room until the latter had paced off some of her excitement.
The landlord put his head into the door, saying:
“The boy has gone after the carriage, Miss, and you may rely on his being back here in an hour’s time.”
“Thanks. How far do you really think it is from this place to old Lyon Hall?”
“Why Miss, some people calls it ten miles, but I don’t believe it is more than eight at the outside.”
“And how long will it take for me to get there?”