nd later Jean went to her son.
Mrs. Moore heard of this event from her husband, who stopped at the
Hall late that evening, and found Peter asleep, and Jean restless and
headachy. He spent a long and almost silent hour pacing the rose
terrace with Sidney in the cool dark. Late into the night the doctor
and his wife lay wakeful, discussing affairs at the Hall.
After some hesitation, Mrs. Moore went the next day to find Jean. There
was no sound as she approached the house, and she stepped timidly into
the big hall, listening for voices. Presently she went softly to the
dining-room, and stood in the doorway. The room was empty. But Mary's
heart rose with a throb of thanksgiving. Peter's silver mug was in its
place on the sideboard. She went swiftly to the pantry where Julia was
cleaning the silver.
"Julia!" she said eagerly, softly, "I notice that the baby's cup is
back. Did he give in?"
The maid, who had started at the interruption, shook her head gravely.
"No'm. Mrs. Carolan picked it up."
"MRS. Carolan?"
"Yes'm. She seemed quite wildlike this morning," went on the maid, with
the simple freemasonry of troubled times, "and after Peter went off
with Mrs. Butler, she--"
"Oh, he went off? Did his father let him go?" Mary's voice was full of
relief. Mrs. Butler was Jean's cousin, a cheery matron who had taken a
summer cottage at Broadsands, twenty miles away.
Julia's color rose; she looked uneasy.
"Mr. Carolan had to go to Barville quite early," she evaded
uncomfortably, "and when Mrs. Butler asked could she take Peter, his
mother said yes, she could."
"Thank you," Mary said pleasantly, but her heart was heavy. She went
slowly upstairs to find Jean.
Peter's mother was lying in a darkened bedroom, and the face she turned
to the door at Mary's entrance was shockingly white. They exchanged a
long pressure of fingers.
"Headache, Jean, dear?"
"Oh, and heartache!" said Jean, with a pitiful smile. "Sid thrashed him
yesterday!" she added, with suddenly trembling lips.
"I know." Mary sat down on the edge of the bed and patted Jean's hand.
"I've let him go with Alice," said Jean, defensively. "I had to!" She
turned on her elbow, her voice rising. "Mary, I didn't say one word
about the whipping, but now--now he threatens to hold him under the
stable pump!" she finished, dropping back wearily against her pillows.
Mrs. Moore caught her breath.
"Ah!" They eyed each other sombrely.
"Mary, would YOU p
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