“Was that what Aunt de Tracy was here about? I met her on the road five minutes ago; she said she had been here on business! But tell me, Nurse, why does she want you to leave? Are you going to get a better 230 cottage? Does she think this one isn’t healthy for you?”
“No, no, dear, ’t isn’t that, she ’ve sold the cottage over me ’ead, that’s what ’t is, or she’s going to sell it, to a gentleman from London––Lord knows what a gentleman from London wants wi’ ’en––and I’ve to quit.”
Robinette tried to be a peacemaker.
“Then you’ll get a much more comfortable house, that’s quite certain. You know, though this one is lovely on fine days like this, that the thatch is all coming off, and I’m sure it’s damp inside! Just wait a bit, and see if you don’t get some nice cosy little place, with a sound roof and quite dry, that will cure this rheumatism of yours.”
But Mrs. Prettyman shook her head.
“No, no, there won’t be no cosy place given to me; I’m no more worth than an old shoe now, Missie, and I’m to be turned out, the lady said so ’erself; said as I must go to Exeter to live with me niece Nettie, 231 and ’er don’t want us––Nettie don’t––and whatever shall I do without I ’ave Duckie and the plum tree?”
“Oh, but”––Robinette began, quite incredulously, and the old woman took up her lament again.
“And I asked the lady, wouldn’t I ’ave something allowed me for the plum tree––that ’ave about clothed me for years back? And ‘No,’ she says, ‘’t ain’t your plum tree, Elizabeth, ’t is mine; I can’t ’low nothing on me own plum tree.’”
Robinette still refused to believe the story.
“Nurse, dear,” she said, “you’re a tiny bit deaf now, you know, and perhaps you misunderstood about leaving. Suppose you keep your dear old heart easy for to-night, and I’ll come down bright and early to-morrow and tell you what it really is! If you have to leave the plum tree you’ll get a fine price put on it that may last you for years; it’s such a splendid tree, anyone can see it’s worth a good deal.”