ford for Mr.
Legh.'

'What a pity! I could have gone to the lodge in the carriage.'

Theodora was provoked that her impatience had made her miss this chance:
so, without answering, she ran down the steps, and was almost whirled
along the avenue by the wild wind that roared in the branches, tearing
the leaves from the trees, and whirling them round and round. She hardly
felt it--her whole soul was set upon the little orphan; the misery of
watching the suffering she could not relieve, joined with passionate
resentment at her father and sister-in-law, who she fancied made light
of it. Only Mr. Fotheringham, when stopping at the lodge on his way, had
shown what she thought tolerable humanity. He had shared her concern,
consoled her despair, suggested asking counsel of Mrs. Martindale, and
finally rode off five miles to Whitford in quest of the doctor.

Violet's advice proved not to be despicable; the measures she
recommended relieved the little one, and by the time Percy and the
apothecary made their appearance, it was asleep on Theodora's lap, and
Mr. Legh pronounced that it was in a fair way to do well. She wished she
could have watched it all night, but it was late, and Mr. Fotheringham
stood waiting at the door. So she laid it in the cradle, gave her
directions to the old woman who had charge of it, and resumed her brown
cloak and hood, in which she walked about in all weathers, without
umbrella, for which, as for parasols, she had a supreme aversion.

Mr. Legh wished to prevail on her to let him drive her home, but she
would not hear of it. Percy put up his umbrella, and offered to shelter
her, but she held aloof.

'No, no. Where did you get that elegant cotton machine?'

'I borrowed it at the turnpike.'

'And rode home with it on Arthur's mare?'

'Of course I did. I was not going to get wet through.'

'But how did you get her to let you carry it. She objects to his taking
out his handkerchief.'

'I am not going to be beaten by a mare, and she soon found that out.'

'What have you done with her?'

'I took her home, and came back again. I wonder what Arthur will say to
me for taking his gallant gray on to Whitford. I must get up a pathetic
appeal to the feelings of a father!'

'Well, I did not recollect you had the gray, or I would have told you to
take my horse. However, there's no harm done, and it saved time.'

'Whoo--h!' as the gust came roaring down furiously upon them, pelting
fiercely with rain,