"But who is he?" was the next question.
"The son, indeed the only child, of Farmer Armstrong, who owns Meadow Farm, about two miles from Basingstoke. The farm has belonged to Armstrong's ancestors for nearly two hundred years. The old gentleman has recently lost his wife, and the son came from London a few weeks ago to be present at his mother's funeral."
"Young Mr. Armstrong resides in London, then, I suppose?" remarked Mrs. Herbert.
"Yes; his tastes for intellectual pursuits and his education made him dislike farming, and at last his father, with great reluctance, allowed him to commence business in London as a corn-dealer."
Mrs. St. Clair had listened to this plain straightforward description of her daughter's and grandson's deliverer and his antecedents with very conflicting sensations. She had hoped to be able personally to show her deep sense of gratitude to this gentleman, who had risked his own life for her child; but now, how could she do so? She had been brought up to consider persons in trade far inferior to herself, and the doctor's account seemed to place this stranger at such an immeasurable distance, and yet how could she relieve herself from such a debt of gratitude?
During the pause that ensued, Dr. Anson examined and questioned his patient, and having received satisfactory answers, was about to take his leave, when Mrs. St. Clair's voice arrested his movements.
"Dr. Anson, we can never really repay this person the debt of gratitude we owe him, but as he is in trade, do you think he would accept a sum of money; something handsome, I mean! I am sure my son-in-law, Sir James Elston, would readily advance it in such a case."
"Mamma!"
"Madam!"
The words burst forth almost simultaneously from Mrs. Herbert and the doctor. The former gave up her right to speak to the doctor, who exclaimed—