“Go at once, sir, and... do you mind me going with you—just to the door, you know? I would sleep better to-night if I knew mother and child were safe.” And the Collector was already moving to the door as one in haste.
“It is very good of you, Collector, and Fortune will value your sympathy; but there is something I called to talk about and in my concern about Mrs. Fortune I... quite forgot it. It's about that unfortunate Sabbath-school entertainment.”
“It's of no importance beside this trial—none whatever. Let us not delay, and I'll hear you on the other matter as we cross the South Meadow.”
So Rutherford was hustled out of the house in growing amazement.
“Let me say, first of all, Collector, that we are all much concerned...
“Who could be otherwise, my good sir, if he had a heart in his bosom—only eight months married, and in danger of being separated. Mother and child taken, and the husband... left desolate... desolate for life!”
“If you could see your way,” resumed Rutherford, after a respectful pause, and still harking back to the dispute, “to do anything...”
“Why did you not say that before? Only tell me; and if it be in my power, it shall be done. May I undertake the doctor's fees, or arrange with the nurse—through you of course, and in any way that will be in keeping with their feelings? Command me; I shall count it more than a privilege—a duty of pity and... love.”
“It was not the Fortunes I was thinking of,” said Rutherford; “but that can be left over. It is kind of you to offer help; they are not, however, in need of pecuniary assistance. Fortune has a good post in the railway. He's a first-rate engineer and a rising man. But if you cared to send flowers...”
“I am obliged to you for the hint, and I'll attend to this to-morrow morning.” (The invalid had a fresh bouquet every day for a month.) “No, I will not go in. Just present my compliments and sympathy to Mr. Fortune. Here is my card, and... I'll just wait for the bulletin, if you would be so good as to come with it to the door.”