“Worse?”
“I don’t know, sir, till the doctor comes; but can’t be no better, for I heard Mrs. Crane say she didn’t close an eye all night.”
“I hope they’re not forgetting the child in the hurry?” said Harry.
“Mrs. Tarnley and Lilly Dogger looks after it, turn about.”
“That wouldn’t do nohow, you know,” said Harry—“and give her a good feed, Tom, good dog, good bone. She came at a good lick, I can tell you, up the glen. The doctor will be here soon.”
“Ay, sir.”
“Well, I’ll stay till I hear what he says; and there’s sickness in Carwell Glen here, I’m told.”
“I dessay, sir, there’s a good deal going, I hear.”
“Ye needn’t take her out of the shafts, Tom. Fix her head in a halter by the gate—in the ring there, if ye have a nose-bag at hand—and come in here. She’s as quiet as a lamb; I want to talk to you a bit. I’m goin’ to buy two or three fillies, and think of any you may have seen down about here. Old Tarnley’s in the kitchen now, is she?”
“I think she is, sir.”