Caleb thanked His Worship, and retired, but not before Mr Jackson had whispered that it was a question whether he had not grounds for an action against Coutts Hadleigh. Poor Caleb neither understood nor heeded this suggestion in his present state of mind. He wanted to get away from the place. He was stopped, however, by Philip, who grasped his hand warmly, and asked him to come back to the works.
‘Thank you kindly, sir; but it may not be. I am bound to cross the water, and seek some place where I can forget the old land and—the old friends.’
‘Hoots, man, what clavers,’ exclaimed the gardener, stepping forward. ‘You should not be headstrong. There’s as good living in the auld country as in the new, if you would seek it in the right way.’
A kindly hand pressed Caleb’s arm, and a soft voice said in a tone of intense relief:
‘I am glad you are safe.’
Caleb pressed Pansy’s hand in his own, and held it firmly for a few seconds.
‘I’m obliged to you,’ he said quietly, although huskily. ‘I wish you well.’
And with that he forced his way through the group of friends and disappeared.
HOME-NURSING.
BY A LADY.