He remained standing near to Rachel.
"Oh, she's very much better," said Rachel eagerly. "She was asleep
when I left."
"Have ye left her by herself?" Mr. Batchgrew continued his inquiry.
His voice was as offensive as thick dark glue.
"Of course not! Mrs. Tams is sitting up with her." Rachel meant her
tone to be a dignified reproof to Thomas Batchgrew for daring
to assume even the possibility of her having left Mrs. Maldon to
solitude. But she did not succeed, because she could not manage her
tone. She desired intensely to be the self-possessed, mature woman,
sure of her position and of her sagacity; but she could be nothing
save the absurd, guilty, stammering, blushing little girl, shifting
her feet and looking everywhere except boldly into Thomas Batchgrew's
horrid eyes.
"So it's Mrs. Tams as is sitting with her!"
Rachel could not help explaining--
"I had to come down town to do some shopping for Sunday. Somebody had
to come. Mr. Fores had called in to ask after Mrs. Maldon, and so he
walked down with me." Every word she said appeared intolerably foolish
to her as she uttered it.
"And then he brought ye in here!" Batchgrew grimly completed the tale.
"We came in here for ten minutes or so, as I'd finished my shopping
so quickly.
Pages:
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228