“Is my lord viscount very sick, Loll Duss, or will he and his lady continue their journey to-morrow?”
“The Ferringhee lord is somewhat amended, mistress,” says Loll Duss; “but I heard say at the inn that he must needs abide there some two or three days.”
“Perhaps ’twould be well for me to go see whether I can be of any service, my dear?” says I.
“Not to-night, sir,” says Dorothy. “ ’Twould but incommode his lordship at this hour. Pray return to the inn, Loll Duss, and inquire whether this house can furnish aught that may contribute to his lordship’s recovery, and say that Mr Carlyon and I will do ourselves the honour of waiting upon my lady viscountess in the morning, if it suit with her convenience.”
Loll Duss saluted us again, and departed, and Dorothy and I sat silent for a while. At the last she looked up suddenly.
“Ned,” says she, “should you now be happier if Madam Heliodora had—had never rejected your vows at St Thomas?”
“Why, Dorothy!” says I, “jealous?” But seeing that her eyes was full of tears, I made haste to assure her with great solemnity. “My dearest life,” says I, “I can say but this one thing, that from the first day that I returned to Ellswether until now, I have thanked God night and morning that she did so reject ’em, and thus leave me free to return to that duty which is my highest pleasure, and to the best and dearest wife that ever a man had. And this thanksgiving I look to renew to-night, and likewise every day until my life’s end.”
“My dear Ned,” says she, coming behind me and kissing me, “forgive me. ’Twas but that my foolish heart would not rest content without a fresh assurance of your love. You had not thought me so timorous, had you?” But I felt a tear drop on my forehead. Then I took her in my arms, and said to her much more than I could set down, or than ’twould be profitable so to do, until Miles brought in the candles, and my wife said that she must needs go to see that the babes were asleep, and to inquire how Mrs Skipwith found herself, she being kept to her chamber with a rheumatic fit.
Now the next morning the coach come round with great magnificence for to convey us to the inn, and my wife appeared wearing her best brocado gown—a thing that made me laugh.
“We go prodigious fine to-day, madam,” says I, handing her into the coach.