will be too much for him."
Here the ladies'-maid arrived, with a message that her father
wished to see Miss Winter.
"Leave your money, Katie," said her cousin, "this is gentlemen's
business, and Tom and Mr. Hardy will settle it all for us, I am
sure."
Tom professed his entire willingness to accept the charge,
delighted at finding himself reinstated in his office of
protector at Mary's suggestion. Had the landlord been one or his
own tradesmen, or the bill his own bill, he might not have been
so well pleased, but, as neither of these was the case, and he
had Hardy to back him, he went into the matter with much vigor
and discretion, and had the landlord up, made the proper
deductions, and got the bill settled and receipted in a few
minutes. Then he and Hardy addressed themselves to getting the
carriage comfortably packed, and vied with one another in
settling and stowing away in the most convenient places, the many
little odds and ends which naturally accompany young ladies and
invalids on their travels; in the course of which employment he
managed to snatch a few words here and there with Mary and
satisfied himself that she bore him no ill-will for the events of
the previous day.
At last all was ready for the start, and Tom reported the fact in
the sitting-room. "Then I will go and fetch papa," said Miss
Winter.
Tom's eyes met Mary's at the moment. He gave a slight shrug with
his shoulders, and said, as the door closed after his cousin,
"Really I have no patience with Uncle Robert, he leaves poor
Katie to do everything."
"Yes; and how beautifully she does it all, without a word or, I
believe, a thought of complaint! I could never be so patient."
"I think it is a pity. If Uncle Robert were obliged to exert
himself, it would be much better for him. Katie is only spoiling
him and wearing herself out."
"Yes, it is very easy for you and me to think and say so. But he
is her father, and then he is really an invalid. So she goes on
devoting herself to him more and more, and feels she can never do
too much for him."
"But if she believed it would be better for him to exert himself?
I'm sure it is the truth. Couldn't you try to persuade her?"
"No, indeed; it would only worry her, and be so cruel. But then I
am not used to give advice," she added, after a moment's pause,
looking demurely at her gloves; "It might do good, perhaps, now,
if you were to speak to her."
"You think me so well qualified, I su
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