Morgan went straightway to the rectory, and laid his case before the rector. The old man had his son, a young deacon, staying in his house, and readily consented to spare his curate. Then there was a letter to Nelly to be written, explaining the cause of his sudden departure. Before noon the train was bearing him far away from the vales and woods of Huntsdean, straight to the great world of London. And from Euston Square he travelled to the ancient Warwickshire city where his parents had made their home.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XIV.
EVE HAZLEBURN, POET AND FRIEND.
A very humble home it was; but his love had stinted self to obtain comforts for them. The light of the February day was fading when he entered the little house, and found his father eagerly watching for him.
“You are a good son,—a good son,” said the old man, in a broken voice. “She is no worse; and Miss Hazleburn is with her.”
Hazleburn! The name had a familiar sound; but Morgan was too weary and agitated to remember where he had heard it before. He took his way at once to his mother’s chamber.
As he went in, a small, slight figure rose from a chair by the bedside, and quietly glided away. He scarcely looked at it in the gathering dusk; moreover he had no thoughts, just then, for anybody but the mother who lay there yearning for a sight of him.