"No."
"She did it, then. Something sent her into a passion with Miss Bessy; she caught her hand and flung it away so violently that the wrist began to swell. I was sent for to bind it up. Why such women are allowed to live, I can't imagine."
"I suppose because they are not fit to die," said Mrs. Cumberland. "When are you leaving?"
"Sometime in July, I think, or during August. I enter on my new post the first of September, so there's no especial hurry in the matter."
Mrs. Cumberland rose and continued her slow way homewards. Passing her own house, she entered that of her son. Dr. Rane was engaged with a patient, so she went on to the dining-room and waited.
He came in shortly, perhaps thinking it might be another patient, his face bright. It fell a little when he saw his mother. Her visits to him were so exceedingly rare that some instinct whispered him nothing pleasant had brought her there. She rose and faced him.
"Oliver, is what I hear true--that you are shortly to be married?"
"I suppose it is, mother," was his answer.
"But--is there no impediment that should bar it?" she asked in a whisper.
"Well--as to waiting, I may wait to the end, and not find the skies raining gold. If Bessy's friends see no risk in it, it is not for me to see it. At any rate, this will be a more peaceful home for her than the Hall."