Mr. Benson lifted up her
arm to feel her feeble, fluttering pulse; and when he let go her
hand, it fell upon the bed in a dull, heavy way, as if she were
already dead.
"You gave her some food?" said he anxiously, to Mrs. Hughes.
"Indeed, and I offered her the best in the house, but she shook
her poor pretty head, and only asked if I would please to get her
a cup of water. I brought her some milk though; and, 'deed, I
think she'd rather have had the water; but, not to seem sour and
cross, she took some milk." By this time Mrs. Hughes was fairly
crying.
"When does the doctor come up here?"
"Indeed, sir, and he's up nearly every day now, the inn is so
full."
"I'll go for him. And can you manage to undress her and lay her
in bed? Open the window too, and let in the air; if her feet are
cold, put bottles of hot water to them."
It was a proof of the true love, which was the nature of both,
that it never crossed their minds to regret that this poor young
creature had been thus thrown upon their hands. On the contrary,
Mrs. Hughes called it "a blessing."
"It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes."
CHAPTER X
A NOTE AND THE ANSWER
At the inn everything was life and bustle. Mr. Benson had to wait
long in Mrs. Morgan's little parlour before she could come to
him, and he kept growing more and more impatient. At last she
made her appearance and heard his story.
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