Mrs Grey, somewhat abashed, said that Mrs Rowland had some good qualities: it was only a pity that her unhappy temper did not allow them fair play.
“It is a pity,” observed Mr Hope; “and it is at the same time, an appeal to us to allow her the fair play she does not afford herself. That sofa looks delightfully comfortable, Mrs Grey.”
“Oh, you are tired; you are faint, perhaps?”
“Shall I ring?” said Hester, moving to the bell.
“No, no,” said he, laughing; “I am very well at present. I only mean that I should like to stay all day, if you will let me. I am sure that sofa is full as comfortable as my own. I may stay, may I not?”
“No, indeed you shall not, this first day. If you will go away now before you are tired, and if I find when I look in upon you this evening, that you are not the worse for this feat, you shall stay longer to-morrow. But I assure you it is time you were at home now. My dears, just see whether the gig is at the door.”
“So I only get sent away by begging to stay,” said Mr Hope. “Well, I have been giving orders to sick people for so many years, that I suppose it is fairly my turn to obey now. May I ask you to send to Widow Rye’s to-day? I looked in as I came; and her child is in want of better food, better cooked, than she is able to give him.”
“I will send him a dinner from our table. You are not going to see any more patients to-day, I hope?”
“Only two that lie quite in my road. If you send me away, you must take the consequences. Farewell, till tomorrow.”
“Mr Grey and I shall look in upon you this evening. Now do not look about you out of doors, to catch anybody’s eye, or you will be visiting a dozen patients between this house and your own.”