"Cherrie Nettleby, no less. She wanted to come up here whether or no, to see you and the missis, but I sent her to the right about quicker. The flyaway good-for-nothing's off to Greentown in the cars this afternoon."
"Indeed. And how long is she going to stay?"
"I told her I was glad to hear it," said Midge, "and that I hoped she wouldn't come bothering back in a hurry; and she laughed and shook back them black curls of hers, and said perhaps she would stay all summer. The place is well rid of her, and I told her so."
Nathalie, reverting to Charley, perhaps, thought the same, but she did not say so. Midge departed, refreshed by her bit of gossip, and Nathalie resumed her book. The steaming sick-room was irksome enough to her, but she would not leave Mrs. Leroy even for a moment in her present state. That old lady opened her eyes again; and as she did so, Midge came bolting back.
"Miss Natty, here's Mr. Tom Oaks come to pay that there money, I expect. Shall I send him off again?"
Before Nathalie could reply, Lady Leroy half sat up in bed, feeble as she was, the ruling passion strong in death.
"No, no, no!" she shrilly cried, "don't send him away. Fetch him up here—fetch him up!"
Nathalie dropped her book and was bending over her directly.
"Dear Mrs. Leroy, are you awake? How do you feel now?"
"Better, Natty, better. Fetch him up, Midge—fetch him up."