“Oh! Ugh—Oo! Oh, blessed Lord Jesus!”
“Are you sure you are well enough, ma'am? Hadn't I better tell him——”
“No, I'll be worse to-morrow, and the next day worse still. Give me a dose of medicine, Martha—the morning medicine—the one that makes me cheerful. Thank you, Martha. If I feel the pain when he is here, I'll bear it as long as I can, and then I'll say, 'I'm finding myself drowsy, Philip; you had better go and lie down.' Will you understand that, Martha?”
“Yes, ma'am,” said Martha.
“I'm afraid we must be a little deceitful, Martha. But we can't help that, can we? You see he has to be installed yet, and that is always a great excitement. If he thought I was very ill, now—very, very ill, you know—yes, I really think he would wish to postpone it, and I wouldn't have that for worlds and worlds. He has always been so fond of his old auntie. Well, it's the way with these boys. I daresay people wonder why he has never married, being so great and so prosperous. That was for my sake. He knew I should——”
Philip was breathing heavily. Auntie Nan listened. “I'm sure there's somebody in the hall, Martha. Is it——? Yes, it's——; Go down to him quick——”
“Yes, ma'am,” said Martha, making a noise with the screen to cover Philip's escape on tiptoe. Then she came to him on the landing, wiping her eyes with her apron, and pretended to lead Philip back to the room.
“My boy! my boy!” cried Auntie Nan, and she folded him in her arms.
The transformation was wonderful. She had a look of youth now, almost a look of gaiety. “I've heard the great, great news,” she whispered, taking his hand.
“That's only a rumour, Auntie,” said Philip. “Are you better?”