"Does she talk in her delirium?"
"Talk? Law, sir, she don't do nothink else at all! Her tongue goes like a mill-clapper all the time!"
"Let me go and see her. Perhaps by her rambling talk I may gain some clue to my poor wife's fate."
"I'm 'fraid you won't, sir. I an't been able to yet. But you're welcome to come up and see her if you will," said the old woman, rising and leading the way to a neat room overhead, where Miss Tabby lay in bed, babbling at random.
Miss Libby, who was sitting beside her, got up and courtesied, and made way for Mr. Berners, who came forward and bent over the sick woman, spoke to her kindly, and inquired how she felt.
But the old maid, who was quite delirious, took him for the sweetheart of her young days, and called him "Jim," and asked him how he dared to have the "impidince" to come into a young lady's room before she was up in the morning, and she requested Suzy—a sister who had long been dead—to turn him out directly.
But though Mr. Berners sat by her and succeeded in soothing her, he gained no information from her. She babbled of everything under the sun but the one subject to which he wished to lead her thoughts.
At length, in despair, Mr. Berners arose to depart.
"Where does that quarryman live who picked her up and brought her home?"
"Up at the quarries, sir, to be sure."