Hewitt, less aware than she of Gervase’s wandering and unimpressionable mind, shook his head at her, jerking his thumb this time in front of him at the young man lolling out of the window. “Usht, can’t ye? Why, ’Er, ’is mother,” he said, under his breath.
A quick reflection passed through Patty’s mind. “Then, I’m her,” she said to herself, but then remembered that this was not the case that Sir Giles’ death alone could make her Lady Piercey. As this flashed upon her thoughts, a bitter regret came into Patty’s mind—regret, keen as if she had loved her, that Lady Piercey was dead, that she should have been allowed to die. Oh, if she had but known! How quickly would she have brought Gervase back to see his mother! Her triumph, whenever it should come, would be shorn of one of its most poignant pleasures. Lady Piercey would not be there to see it! She could never now be made to come down from her place, made to give up all her privileges to the girl whom she despised. Patty felt so genuine a pang of disappointment that it brought the tears to her eyes. “I must tell him,” she said quickly,—the tears were not without their use, too, and it is not always easy to call them up at will.
“I wouldn’t to-night. Let ’im have ’is first night in peace,” said the innkeeper, “and take ’is beer, and get the good of it like any other man.”
“Go down, perhaps you think, to your men in the parlour, and smoke with them, and drink with them, and give you the chance to say as he’s your son-in-law? and his mother lying dead all the time. No, father, not if I know it,” cried Patty, and she gave her head a very decided nod. “I know what I’m about,” she added; “I know exactly what he’s going to do. So, father, you may go, and you can tell ’Liza that we’ll now have tea.”
“I tell ’Liza! I’ll do none of your dirty errands,” said old Hewitt; but his indignation answered Patty’s purpose, who was glad to get rid of him, in order that her own duty might be performed. She went forward to the window where Gervase was sitting, and linked her arm in his, not without some resistance on the part of the Softy, who was wholly occupied with his new pleasure.
“Let alone, I tell you, Pat! One white horse on the off side, that counts five for me; and a whole team of black ’uns for the other fellow. Where’s all those black horses come from, I should like to know?”
“Gervase dear, don’t you do it; don’t make a game with the black horses. It’s dreadful unlucky. They’re for a funeral, come from town on purpose. And oh! Gervase dear, do listen to me! for whose funeral do you suppose?”
“Is it a riddle?” said Gervase, showing his teeth from ear to ear.
“Oh hush, hush, there’s a good boy! It’s not like you to make a joke of such dreadful things.”
“Why can’t you say then what it is, and have done with it?” Gervase said.