u when I
go back to the poor girl."
"How is Miss Langton?"
"I hardly know. I think she is wandering a little: she talked just now
about some embroidery she has been doing--asked for it, in fact."
"When Dr. Grey was obliged to go he didn't think there would be any
change before he came back, surely?" said Hardwicke anxiously.
"No. But she can't know what she is saying, can she? Poor girl! she will
never do another stitch." Mrs. Latimer fairly broke down. The unfinished
embroidery which never could be finished brought the truth home to her.
It is hard to realize that a life with its interlacing roots and fibres
is broken off short.
"Oh, Mrs. Latimer, don't! don't!" Harry exclaimed, aghast at her tears.
"For dear Mrs. Middleton's sake!" He rushed away, and returned with
wine. "If you give way what will become of us?"
She was better in a few minutes, and able to go back, while Harry waited
in quiet confidence for Mrs. Middleton. He was not afraid of a burst of
helpless weeping when she came. She was gentle, yielding, delicate, but
there was something of the old squire's obstinacy in her, and in a
supreme emergency it came out as firmness. She looked old and frail as
she stepped into the passage and closed the door after her. Her hand
shook, but her eyes met his bravely and her lips were firm.
"You'll have some wine too," he said, pouring it out as a matter of
course. "You can drink it while you tell me what I am to do."
She took the glass with a slight inclination of her head, and explained
that she wanted an old servant who had been Sissy's nurse when she was a
little child. "Mrs. Latimer is very kind," she said, "but Sissy will
like her own people best. And Sarah would be broken-hearted--" She
paused. "Here is a list of things that I wish her to bring."
"Mrs. Latimer thought Miss Langton was not quite herself," he said
inquiringly.
"Do you mean because she talked of her work? Oh, I don't think so. She
answers quite sensibly--indeed, she speaks quite clearly. That was the
only thing."
"Then is it down in the list, this needlework? Or where is it to be
found?"
"You will bring it?" said Mrs. Middleton. "Well, perhaps--"
"If she should ask again," he said.
"True. Yes, yes, bring it." She told him where to find the little case.
"The fancy may haunt her. How am I to thank you, Harry?"
"Not at all," he said. "Only let me do what I can."
It was nearly eleven before Hardwicke had accomplished hi
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