much talked about that we were all as
curious as possible to see him, and to know how so unusual an experiment,
as it seemed to us, would answer. But, before I tell you anything about
our new agent, I must speak of something quite as interesting, and I
really think quite as important. And this was my lady's making friends
with Harry Gregson. I do believe she did it for Mr. Horner's sake; but,
of course, I can only conjecture why my lady did anything. But I heard
one day, from Mary Legard, that my lady had sent for Harry to come and
see her, if he was well enough to walk so far; and the next day he was
shown into the room he had been in once before under such unlucky
circumstances.
The lad looked pale enough, as he stood propping himself up on his
crutch, and the instant my lady saw him, she bade John Footman place a
stool for him to sit down upon while she spoke to him. It might be his
paleness that gave his whole face a more refined and gentle look; but I
suspect it was that the boy was apt to take impressions, and that Mr.
Horner's grave, dignified ways, and Mr. Gray's tender and quiet manners,
had altered him; and then the thoughts of illness and death seem to turn
many of us into gentlemen, and gentlewomen, as long as such thoughts are
in our minds. We cannot speak loudly or angrily at such times; we are
not apt to be eager about mere worldly things, for our very awe at our
quickened sense of the nearness of the invisible world, makes us calm and
serene about the petty trifles of to-day. At least, I know that was the
explanation Mr. Gray once gave me of what we all thought the great
improvement in Harry Gregson's way of behaving.
My lady hesitated so long about what she had best say, that Harry grew a
little frightened at her silence. A few months ago it would have
surprised me more than it did now; but since my lord her son's death, she
had seemed altered in many ways,--more uncertain and distrustful of
herself, as it were.
At last she said, and I think the tears were in her eyes: "My poor little
fellow, you have had a narrow escape with your life since I saw you
last."
To this there was nothing to be said but "Yes;" and again there was
silence.
"And you have lost a good, kind friend, in Mr. Horner."
The boy's lips worked, and I think he said, "Please, don't." But I can't
be sure; at any rate, my lady went on:
"And so have I,--a good, kind friend, he was to both of us; and to you he
wished
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