We went on towards Mrs. Brook’s. But in passing Mr. Delorane’s, Aunt Hester’s head appeared above the Venetian blind of the dining-room. She began nodding cordially.
“How lively she looks,” exclaimed the Squire. “Pleased that he is back, I take it. Suppose we go in?”
The front-door was standing open, and we went in unannounced. Aunt Hester, sitting then at the little work-table, making herself a cap with lace and pink ribbons, got up and tried to shake hands with all three of us at once.
“We are on our way to call on William Brook,” cried the Squire, as we sat down, and Aunt Hester was taking up her work again.
“On William Brook!—why, what do you mean?” she exclaimed. “Has he come?”
“You don’t mean to say you did not know it—that he has not been to see you?” cried the Squire.
“I don’t know a thing about it; I did not know he had come; no one has told me,” rejoined Aunt Hester. “As to his coming to see me—well, I suppose he would not feel himself at liberty to do that until Mr. Delorane gave permission. When did he arrive? I am so glad.”
“And he is not much behind his time, either,” observed Tod.
“Not at all behind it, to speak of, only we were impatient. The truth is, I caught somewhat of Ellin’s fears,” added Aunt Hester, looking at us over her spectacles, which she rarely wore higher than the end of her nose. “Ellin has had gloomy ideas about his never coming back at all; and one can’t see a person perpetually sighing away in silence, without sighing a bit also for company. Did he get here this morning? What a pity Ellin is in Worcester!”
We told Aunt Hester all about it, just as we had told Darbyshire, but not quite so curtly, for she was not in a hurry to be off to a poisoned patient. She dropped her work to listen, and took off her spectacles, looking, however, uncommonly puzzled.