“Yes.”
“Arter a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“For a lady in ’streme ’stress?”
“Yes.”
“Young Mrs. Lyon, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Then, sir, that was my own lady; and I jest knowed how it would be! I jest did! Sir, she left here in an old ramshackly concern as broke down with her afore she so much as got a mile from the place; and then she up and set out to walk all the way through the storm to the hall; and which if I’d a knowed, I’d a seen the old hall and everybody into it farther afore I’d a let her a risted of her life by so doing. But that there blamed boy,—Lord forgive me for swearing,—arter he’d upset her in the road, took all the rest of the evening to haul off the old wreck of a carriage, and never got back here till I had gone to bed. So I never knowed nothing about it till this morning, which a purty state my nerves has been in ever since.”
And mammy, having talked herself out of breath, dropped down in a chair and panted.
“You were this lady’s nurse?” inquired Dick, buttering a roll.