"Yes, about Squire and Madam," said Hetty.
"It has come unexpected," said the woman. "We didn't know until this morning that Squire was to be back to-night. Mr. Griffiths got the letter by the first post, and he's been nearly off his head since; there ain't a man in the village though that hasn't turned to help him with a will, and there are to be bonfires and all the rest. They say Squire and Madam are to live at the Court now. Pity the poor child went off so sudden. He were a main fine little chap; pity he ain't there to return home with his father and mother. You look better, Hetty Vincent—not so peaky like. Pain in the side less?"
"Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't," answered Hetty; "it's much better to-day. I can't stay talking any longer though, Mrs. Martin, for I want to catch Aunt Fanny."
"Well, you'll find her at home, but as busy as a bee, the whole place is flocking to the inn to learn the latest news. We're a-going up to the Court presently to welcome 'em home. You and your good man will come, too, eh, Hetty?"
"Yes, for sure," answered Hetty. She continued her walk up the village street.
Mrs. Armitage was cooling herself in the porch of the little inn when she saw her niece approaching.
Hetty hurried her steps, and came panting to her side.
"Aunt Fanny, is it true?" she gasped.
"True? Yes, child, it's true," said Mrs. Armitage. "They're coming home. You come along in and stand in the shelter, Hetty. Seems to me you grow thinner and thinner."
"Oh, aunt, never mind about my looks just now; have you heard anything else? How is he?"