Anne Hereford. Mrs. Henry Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ Delves was very kind. Both the doctors came up the avenue. I watched them into the house; I heard them come downstairs again. The physician from Nettleby went straight out: Mr. Lowe came to the parlour.

      "My dear," he said to me, "you are to go up to Mrs. Edwin Barley."

      "Is she much worse, sir?" I lingered to ask.

      "I can hardly say how she is," was his answer. "We must hope for the best."

      He stayed in the room himself, and shut the door while he talked to Miss Delves. The hall-clock struck ten as I passed under it, making me start. The hall was clear to-day, and the window and door stood a little open. Jemima told me that Philip King was in a sitting-room at the back, one that was rarely used. I ran quickly up to Selina's chamber. Mr. Edwin Barley was in it, to my dismay. He turned to leave it when I went in, and put his hand kindly enough upon my hair.

      "You look pale, little one; you should run out of doors for a while."

      His wife watched him from the room with her strangely altered eyes, and then beckoned to me.

      "Shut the door, and bolt it, Anne." And very glad I felt to do it. It was impossible to overcome my fear of Mr. Edwin Barley.

      "Do you think you could find your way to Hallam?"

      "I daresay I could, aunt."

      "Selina, call me Selina," she impatiently interposed. "Call it me to the last."

      To the last!

      "You remember the way you came from Nettleby, Anne? In going out at the gates by the lodge, Nettleby lies on your left hand, Hallam on your right. You understand?"

      "Oh, quite."

      "You have only to turn to the right, and keep straight along the high road; in a short time you come to Hallam village. The way is not at all lonely; cottages and houses are scattered all along it."

      "I am sure I could go quite easily, Selina."

      "Then put your things on, and take this note," she said, giving me a little piece of paper twisted up, that she took from under the pillow. "In going down Hallam Street, you will see on the left hand a house standing by itself, with 'Mr. Gregg, Attorney at Law,' on a plate on the door. Go in, ask to see Mr. Gregg alone, and give him that note. But mind, Anne, you are not to speak of this to any one. Should Mr. Edwin Barley or any one else meet you, and inquire where you are going, say only that you are walking out. Do you fully understand?"

      "Yes."

      "Hide the note, so that no one sees it, and give it into Mr. Gregg's hands. Tell him I hope he will comprehend it, but that I was too ill to write it more elaborately."

      No one noticed me as I left the house, and I pursued the road to Hallam, my head and thoughts full. Suppose Mr. Edwin Barley should meet and question me! I knew that I should make a poor hand at deception: besides being naturally open, mamma had brought me up to be so very candid and truthful. I had crushed the note inside my glove, having no better place of concealment,--suppose he should seize my hand and find it! And if the gentleman I was going to see should not be at home, what was I to do then? Bring the note back to Selina, or leave it? I ought to have asked her.

      "Well, my little maid, and where are you off to?"

      The salutation proceeded from Mr. Martin, who had come right upon me at a turning of the road. My face grew hot as I answered him.

      "I am out for a walk, sir."

      "But this is rather far to come alone. You are close upon Hallam."

      "My Aunt Selina knows it, sir," I said, trembling lest he should stop me, or order me to walk back with him.

      "Oh, very well," he answered, good-naturedly. "How is she to-day?"

      "She is not any better, sir," I replied. And he left me, telling me I was not to lose myself.

      I came to the houses, straggling at first, but soon contiguous to each other, as they are in most streets. Mr. Gregg's stood alone, its plate on the door. A young man came running out of it as I stood hesitating whether to knock or ring.

      "If you please, is Mr. Gregg at home?"

      "Yes," answered he. "He is in the office. You can go in if you want him."

      Opening an inner door, he showed me into a room where there seemed to be a confused mass of faces. In reality there might have been three or four, but they multiplied themselves to my timid eyes.

      "A little girl wants to see Mr. Gregg," said the young man.

      A tall gentleman came forward, with a pale face and grey whiskers. He said he was Mr. Gregg, and asked what my business was.

      "I want to see you by yourself, if you please, sir."

      He led the way to another room, and I took the note out of my glove and gave it him. He read it over--to me it appeared a long one--looked at me, and then read it again.

      "Are you Anne Hereford?"

      "Yes," I said, wondering how he knew my name. "My aunt, Mrs. Edwin Barley, bade me say she was too ill to write it better, but she hoped you would understand it."

      "Is she so ill as to be in danger?"

      "I am afraid so."

      He still looked at me, and twirled the note in his fingers. I could see that it was written with a pencil.

      "Do you know the purport of this?" he inquired, pointing to the note.

      "No sir."

      "Did you not read it coming along? It was not sealed."

      "Oh, no. I did not take it out of my glove."

      "Well--tell Mrs. Edwin Barley that I perfectly understand, and shall immediately obey her: tell her all will be ready by the time she sends to me. And--stay a bit. Have you any Christian name besides Anne?"

      "My name is Anne Ursula."

      "And what was your father's name? And what your mother's?"

      "Papa's was Thomas, and mamma's Ursula," I answered, wondering very much.

      He wrote down the name, asked a few more questions, and then showed me out at the street-door, giving a parting injunction that I was not to forget the words of his message to Mrs. Edwin Barley, and not to mention abroad that I had been to his office.

      Reaching home without hindrance, I was about to enter the sickroom, when Miss Delves softly called to me from the upper stairs: Mrs. Edwin Barley was sleeping, and must not be disturbed. So I went higher up to take my things off, and Charlotte Delves asked me into her chamber--a very nice one, immediately over Mrs. Edwin Barley's.

      "Tread softly, my dear. If she can only sleep, it will do her good."

      I would not tread at all, though the carpet was thick and soft, but sat down on the first chair. Miss Delves was changing her cap. She wore very nice ones always.

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