While she was breakfasting the next morning--her uncle sometimes took his alone in his room--Aaron came to her, and said the master wanted her. Ella hastened to him.
"Why! are you in bed, uncle dear?" she exclaimed.
"One of my lazy fits--that's all; thought I'd have breakfast before I got up. Why not? Got a mind for a walk this fine morning, dearie?"
"Yes, uncle, if you wish me to go anywhere. It is a beautiful morning."
"So, so! one should get out this fine weather when one can: wish my legs were as young to get over the ground as they used to be. I want you to go to the vicarage, child, and take a letter to Kettle that I've had here these few days. It's about the votes for the Incurables, and it's time it was attended to. Tell him he must see to it for me and fill it up. Mind you are with him before ten o'clock, and then he'll not be gone out."
"Yes, uncle. I will be sure to go."
"And look here, lassie," added the Squire; "if you like to stay the morning with Maria, you can. I shan't want you; I shall be pottering about here half the day."
Having thus got rid of his niece, the coast was clear for Dr. Spreckley. True to his time, the Doctor drove up in his ramshackle old gig.
"You are better this morning; considerably better," he said to his patient after a quiet examination. "That was a nasty attack, and I hope we shan't have any more of them for a long time to come."
"I was worse, Doctor, than even you knew of," said Mr. Denison. "The wind of the grave blew colder on me yesterday evening than it has ever blown before. Another such bout, and out I shall go, like the snuff of a candle. Eh, now, come?"