Then he told her about his accident and of his narrow escape from being burned to death, although he made as light as possible of his own agency in these matters; but Maria learned all about it later, when she had made the acquaintance of the landlady, who could not say enough in praise of him.
For three weeks Squire Talford was a very sick man, and even Maria found her powers of endurance taxed to the utmost, in spite of the aid of Clifford, who insisted upon sharing her vigils at night and doing all that he could besides out of business hours. He pulled through, however, though it was a hard pull; yet when he began to convalesce he mended very rapidly.
Five weeks after Maria's arrival he was able to be up and dressed; his appetite had returned, and he said he felt as if he had "been made over new."
One morning, after she had served him a nice breakfast and put his room to rights, Mrs. Kimberly seated herself directly opposite her patient, with a very determined look on her honest face.
"Well, what is it, Maria?" the squire questioned, for he always knew that matters of importance weighed heavily on her mind when she looked like that.
"I've got something to tell you," she replied, and coming directly to the point.
"I thought so. What is it? Go ahead."
"Waal, I expect you won't like it very well, but it's got to be told," the woman observed, and flushing slightly. "When I was cleanin' the attic, after you left, I took that little hair trunk o' your'n up to move it, dropped it, and smashed the lid off."
The squire started and shot a quick look at her at this.
"Of course, everything tumbled out," she pursued, "and I had to pick 'em up and put 'em back. I suppose I don't need to tell you that I found among the mess a box belonging to Cliff."