A Life's Secret: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

'Not this morning. I did not feel greatly to care for it.'

'Rubbish!' responded Mrs. Quale. 'I may say I don't care for the moon, because I know I can't get it.'

'But I really did not feel to have any appetite just then,' repeated Mary.

'And if you had an appetite, I suppose you couldn't have been any the nearer satisfying it!' returned Mrs. Quale, in a raised voice. 'You let your stomach get empty, and, after a bit, the craving goes off and sickness comes on, and then you say you have no appetite. But, there! it is not your fault; where's the use of my——'

'Why, Mary, girl, what's the matter?'

The interruption to Mrs. Quale proceeded from Dr. Bevary. He was passing the gate with Miss Hunter. They stopped, partly at sight of Mary, who was looking strikingly ill, partly at the commotion Mrs. Quale was making. Neither of them had known that Mary was in this state. Mrs. Quale was the first to take up the discourse.

'She don't look over flourishing, do she, sir?—do she Miss Florence? She have been as bad as this—oh, for a fortnight, now.'

'Why did you not send my uncle word, Mary?' spoke Florence, impulsive in the cause of kindness, as she had been when a child. 'I am sure he would have come to see you.'

'You are very kind, Miss, and Dr. Bevary, also,' said Mary. 'I could not think of troubling him with my poor ailments, especially as I feel it would be useless. I don't think anybody can do me good on this side the grave, sir.'