Three times he paused at the gate,
and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood with his hand upon
it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open and walked up the path.
Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands behind her, and hurriedly
unfastening the strings of her apron, put that useful article of apparel
beneath the cushion of her chair.
She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He
gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old
lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband's coat, a
garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then waited as
patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his business, but he
was at first strangely silent.
"I--was asked to call," he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece
of cotton from his trousers. "I come from 'Maw and Meggins.'"
The old lady started. "Is anything the matter?" she asked,
breathlessly. "Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is
it?"
Her husband interposed. "There, there, mother," he said, hastily. "Sit
down, and don't jump to conclusions. You've not brought bad news, I'm
sure, sir;" and he eyed the other wistfully.
"I'm sorry--" began the visitor.
"Is he hurt?" demanded the mother, wildly.
The visitor bowed in assent. "Badly hurt," he said, quietly, "but he is
not in any pain."
"Oh, thank God!" said the old woman, clasping her hands.
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