"Well—do you—know her, father?"
"Know her?" repeated John, as though asking himself the question, and staring very hard at the pipe in his hand, "do I know her—why, yes—oh, yes, I know her, Barnabas. Ye see—when you was so—so near death—" But at this moment the door opened and two neat, mob-capped maids entered and began to spread a cloth upon the table, and scarcely had they departed when in came Natty Bell, his bright eyes brighter than ever.
"Oh, Natty Bell!" exclaimed John, beckoning him near, "come to this lad of ours—do, he's axing me questions, one a-top of t' other till I don't know what! 'Do I know Lady Cleone?' says he; next it'll be 'how' and 'what' and 'where'—tell him all about it. Natty Bell—do."
"Why then—sit down and be sociable, John," answered Natty Bell, drawing another chair to the fire and beginning to fill his pipe.
"Right, Natty Bell," nodded John, seating himself on the other side of Barnabas, "fire away and tell our lad 'ow we came to know her, Natty Bell."
"Why, then, Barnabas," Natty Bell began, as soon as his pipe was in full blast, "when you was so ill, d' ye see, John and me used to drive over frequent to see how you was, d' ye see. But you, being so ill, we weren't allowed to go up and see you, so she used to come down to us and—talk of you. Ah! and very sweet and gentle she was—eh, man Jack?"
"Sweet!" echoed John, shaking his head, "a angel weren't sweeter! Gentle? Ah, Natty Bell, I should say so—and that thoughtful of us—well, there y' are!"
"But one day, Barnabas," Natty Bell continued, "arter we'd called a good many times, she did take us up to see you,—didn't she, John?"
"Ah, that she did, Natty Bell, God bless her!"
"And you was a-lying there with shut eyes—very pale and still, Barnabas. But all at once you opened your eyes and—being out o' your mind, and not seeing us—delirious, d' ye see, Barnabas, you began to speak. 'No,' says you very fierce, 'No! I love you so much that I can never ask you to be the wife of Barnabas Barty. Mine must be the harder way, always. The harder way! The harder way!' says you, over and over again. And so we left you, but your voice follered us down the stairs—ah, and out o' the house, 'the harder way!' says you, 'the harder way'—over and over again."