“Is my brother gone, Morris?”
“Yes, Miss, three minutes ago.”
“Then he will not be back in an hour. We do not expect him—.”
“This good woman had better go to Mr Walcot, ma’am, as I have been telling her. There’s no doubt he is at home.”
“I could wait here till the gentleman comes home,” said the tall woman; “and so get the first advice for my poor baby. ’Tis very ill, ma’am.”
“Better go to Mr Walcot,” persisted Morris.
“Or to my brother at Mr Grey’s,” said Margaret, unwilling to lose the chance of a new patient for Edward, and thinking his advice better, for the child’s sake, than Mr Walcot’s.
“It is far the readiest way to go to Mr Walcot’s,” declared Maria, whose arm Margaret felt to tremble within her own.
“I believe you are right,” said Margaret. “You had better not waste any more time here, good woman. It may make all the difference to your child.”
“If you would let me wait till the gentleman comes home,” said the tall woman.