"I suppose he is a rich man?"
"Yes, he is rich," replied Patience, who was as busy with her hands as she was in talking. "His household is expensive, and he keeps his open and his close carriages; but for all that he must be putting by money. It is not for his riches that Thomas Ashley is respected, but for his high character. There is not a more just man living than Thomas Ashley; there is not a manufacturer in the town who is so considerate and kind to his workmen. His rate of wages is on the highest scale, and he is incapable of oppression. He has a son and daughter. He, the boy, causes him much uneasiness and cost."
"Is he—not steady?" hastily asked Jane.
"Bless thee, it is not that!" was the laughing answer of Patience. "He is but a young boy yet. When he was fourteen months old, the nurse let him fall from her arms, from the first landing to the hall below. At first they thought he was not hurt: Margaret Ashley herself thought it; the doctors thought it. But in a little time injury grew apparent. It lay in one of the hips; he is often in great pain, and will be lame for life. Abscess after abscess forms in the hip. They take him to the sea-side; to doctors in London; but nothing cures him. A beautiful boy as you ever saw; but his hurt renders him peevish. He is fond of books; and David Byrne, who is a Latin and Greek scholar, goes daily to instruct him; but the boy is thrown back by his fits of illness. It is a great grief to Thomas and Margaret Ashley. They——Why, Anna, is it thee? What dost thou do here?"
Mrs. Halliburton turned from the kitchen cupboard, where she and Patience were arranging crockery, to behold a little girl who was no doubt Anna Lynn. Dark blue eyes were deeply set beneath their long lashes, which lay on a damask and dimpled cheek; her pretty teeth shone like pearls between her smiling lips, and her chestnut hair fell in a mass of careless curls upon her neck. Never, Mrs. Halliburton thought, had she seen a face so lovely. Jane was a pretty child; but Jane faded into nothing in comparison with the vision standing there.
"Thee has thy cap off again, Anna!" cried the Quakeress, with some asperity of tone. "Art thee not ashamed to be so bold?—going about with thy head uncovered!"
"The cap came off, Patience," gently responded Anna. She had a sweetly timid manner; a modest expression.
"Thee need not tell me what is untrue. When the cap is tied on, it will not come off, unless purposely removed. Go home and put it on. Thee may come back again. Perhaps Friend Halliburton will permit thee to stay awhile with her children, who are arranging their books in the study. Is thy French lesson learnt?"
"Not quite," replied Anna, running away.
She returned with a pretty little white net cap on, the model of that worn by Patience. Her luxuriant curls were pushed under it, and the crimped border rested on the fair forehead.