“Which I’m glad to see him,” said Mary, making a bob, and then growing redder in the face as she glanced at Linny, as if afraid that her late ebullition would be exposed.
“And I’m very glad to see you, Mary,” said Hallett, smiling and holding out his hand, which Mary took after interposing her clean pocket handkerchief, on the score that she had been cooking. “Antony often talked to me about you.”
“Have he, though?” said Mary, darting a gratified look at me.
“Often, of your great kindness to him. Your coming has helped us out of a great difficulty.”
“And your dear sister’s coming’s put my heart at rest, for I didn’t know, sir, what gin-drinking wretches might be neglecting my poor boy.”
“And how is the patient?” said Hallett, going to the bedside.
“The doctor says he is going on all right,” I replied.
“Is he a good doctor?” said Mary sharply.
“He is certain to be an eminent man,” said Hallett quietly; and his words partially pacified Mary.
“Because if he ain’t,” said Mary, “money shan’t stand in the way of his having the best in London.”