ing depended on the care taken of her,
under his direction, in that house. There was his responsibility, and he
unconsciously acted under it, exactly as he would have acted in a
case of emergency with women and children on board his own ship. He
questioned the landlady in short, sharp sentences; the only change in
him was in the lowered tone of his voice, and in the anxious looks which
he cast, from time to time, at the room where she lay.
"Do you understand what the doctor has told you?"
"Yes, sir."
"The house must be kept quiet. Who lives in the house?"
"Only me and my daughter, sir; we live in the parlors. Times have gone
badly with us since Lady Day. Both the rooms above this are to let."
"I will take them both, and the two rooms down here as well. Do you know
of any active trustworthy man who can run on errands for me?"
"Yes, sir. Shall I go--?"
"No; let your daughter go. You must not leave the house until the nurse
comes. Don't send the messenger up here. Men of that sort tread heavily.
I'll go down, and speak to him at the door."
He went down when the messenger came, and sent him first to purchase
pen, ink, and paper. The man's next errand dispatched him to make
inquiries for a person who could provide for deadening the sound of
passing wheels in the street by laying down tan before the house in the
usual way. This object accomplished, the messenger received two letters
to post. The first was addressed to Kirke's brother-in-law. It told him,
in few and plain words, what had happened; and left him to break the
news to his wife as he thought best. The second letter was directed to
the landlord of the Aldborough Hotel. Magdalen's assumed name at North
Shingles was the only name by which Kirke knew her; and the one chance
of tracing her relatives that he could discern was the chance of
discovering her reputed uncle and aunt by means of inquiries starting
from Aldborough.
Toward the close of the afternoon a decent middle-aged woman came to the
house, with a letter from Mr. Merrick. She was well known to the doctor
as a trustworthy and careful person, who had nursed his own wife; and
she would be assisted, from time to time, by a lady who was a member of
a religious Sisterhood in the district, and whose compassionate interest
had been warmly aroused in the case. Toward eight o'clock that evening
the doctor himself would call and see that his patient wanted for
nothing.
The arrival of the nurse, an
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