“Aye, but I can nurse her; yes, I must go; I can get the next train.”
“Well, ye know best,” replied Keturah.
Keturah continued to sit by the fire, muttering to herself: “Well, well indeed, ’tis as I thought; dear, the poor lass, the poor lad! Trouble, trouble, trouble!” She leaned forward to stir the pot. “He’ll not be wantin’ it, not at all.” Keturah dwelt moodily on her thoughts, with no change in attitude except when she took the oat-cake from the skillet and reached forward to stir the pot. “’Tis certain disgrace whatever; och, och, the poor lad!”
Suddenly there was the rush of hurrying feet and Deb came in breathless and excited. “Well, well, he’s gone, and I didn’t know that his mother——” she gasped.
“Aye, he went over an hour ago,” interrupted Keturah.
“He was passin’ the window, an’ my mistress saw him an’ called to him; but he wouldn’t stay, he said he couldn’t, he was runnin’ to catch the train.”
“Aye, so he was indeed,” agreed Keturah.
“An’ she ordered me to pack up an’ call the coach, an’ so I did; she thought she’d get there all the quicker to help him than by takin’ the train an’ makin’ so many changes.”
“Jane Elin’s gone, too; she left Gelligaer over half an hour past,” said Keturah slowly.