‘The Lord have mercy on us, did you though! I suppose, then, you’re a-visitin’ here. I know most of the folk hereabouts.’
‘No: I am going back this afternoon.’
Her interrogator was puzzled and her curiosity stimulated. Presently she looked in Madge’s face.
‘Ah! my poor dear, you’ll excuse me, I don’t mean to be forward, but I see you’ve been a-cryin’: there’s somebody buried here.’
‘No.’
That was all she could say. The walk from Letherhead, and the excitement had been too much for her and she fainted. Mrs Caffyn, for that was her name, was used to fainting fits. She was often ‘a bit faint’ herself, and she instantly loosened Madge’s gown, brought out some smelling-salts and also a little bottle of brandy and water. Something suddenly struck her. She took up Madge’s hand: there was no wedding ring on it.
Presently her patient recovered herself.
‘Look you now, my dear; you aren’t noways fit to go back to London to-day. If you was my child you shouldn’t do it for all the gold in the Indies, no, nor you sha’n’t now. I shouldn’t have a wink of sleep this night if I let you go, and if anything were to happen to you it would be me as ’ud have to answer for it.’
‘But I must go; my mother and sister will not know what has become of me.’
‘You leave that to me; I tell you again as you can’t go. I’ve been a mother myself, and I haven’t had children for nothing. I was just a-goin’ to send a little parcel up to my daughter by the coach, and her husband’s a-goin’ to meet it. She’d left something behind last week when she was with me, and I thought I’d get a bit of fresh butter here for her and put along with it. They make better butter in the farm in the bottom there, than they do at Great Oakhurst. A note inside now will get to your mother all right; you have a bit of something to eat and drink here, and you’ll be able to walk along of me just into Letherhead, and then you can ride to Great Oakhurst; it’s only about two miles, and you can stay there all night.’