“There is somebody a little in advance who will appreciate it a great deal better than I can,” said Arthur. “I must overtake Miss Arden. Yes—there; just a little further on.”
“Now, I wonder what he can mean by somebody a little in advance,” said Miss Somers, as Arthur went hastily on. “Can it be Edgar, I wonder—the dear fellow! or the Rector? or whom, I wonder? Mercy, please, if you don’t mind the trouble, do you see anybody coming? Not that I mind who I meet. I am sure I should like to show dear Edgar’s present everywhere. I wonder if it is Lady Augusta? I am sure, Mercy, you know I have always thought well of Lady Augusta——”
“I don’t see nobody, mum,” said Mercy, cutting her mistress remorselessly short, “but them Scotch folks as lives in the village, and ain’t no company for the quality; set them up, them and their pride! John, Miss Somers wants to go a little quicker past them tramps and folks; for they ain’t no better, a poking into our parish,” muttered Mercy, under her breath.
“Oh, no, John; please, John—I want so much to see them,” remonstrated Miss Somers. Fortunately, John wanted to see them too, and after a struggle with Mercy, who ruled her mistress with a rod of iron, the procession paused opposite to where Mrs. Murray sat. Mercy herself could not be more unwilling for any colloquy. The old Scotchwoman kept on her knitting, with her eyes steadily fixed upon it, as long as that was possible. She only moved when the invalid’s eager voice had called her over and over again, “Oh, please, come and speak to me. I am Dr. Somers’ sister, and a great invalid, and I have heard so much about you; and just yesterday I was saying to my brother—— Oh, please, do put down your knitting for a moment and come to me. I am so helpless, I cannot put my foot to the ground.”
Mrs. Murray rose slowly at this appeal, and came and stood by the invalid’s chair.
CHAPTER XXV.
“I have heard so much about you,” said Miss Somers, eagerly. “I am so glad to have met you. The Doctor is always so busy he never gives me any answer when I speak; and you know when one is helpless and can’t budge—— I should have been in my room for ever but for Edgar, you know—I mean Mr. Arden—the dearest fellow!—who has sent me—— I don’t know if you understand such things; but look at it. This is the first time I have been out for two years. Such a handsome chair! the very best, you may be sure, that he could get to buy. And I know he is so interested in both—— Which is your grandchild? Goodness gracious me? Are not you frightened to death to leave her? She might catch cold; she might have something go up her ear—lying right down in the grass.”
“She’ll take no harm,” said the old woman, “and it’s kind, kind of you to ask——”
“Oh, I am always asking,” said Miss Somers; “but people are so very impatient. ‘How you do run on!’ is all my brother says. I hear your child is so pretty; and I am so fond of seeing pretty people. Once, when I was young myself—but that is such a long time ago, and, of course, you would not think it, and I don’t suppose any traces are left—but people did say—— Well, well, you know, one ought never to be vain. She lies dreadfully still; are you not frightened to see her like that—so pale, you know, and so still? It always frightens me to see any one lie so quiet.”
“She is sleeping, poor bairn,” said Mrs. Murray. “She has had a fright, and a bit little attack—and now she’s sleeping. The Doctor has been real kind. I canna say in words how kind he has been—and Mr. Arden. You’re fond of Mr. Arden? I do not wonder at that, for he’s a fine lad.”