CHAPTER XV.
PRUDENCE CALLS AT PLUMMER'S COTTAGES.
Next morning Prudence, after a restless
night, was up betimes. Never in the past
had the placid, good-natured spinster known
sleeplessness, except in a very modified form.
Since Augusta's misfortune, however, that
was changed. She thought more than she
ever had thought in her life, and constant
anxiety was making her face look drawn and
worn. Her brief triumph at having got her
sister safely out of the house had vanished
with the unexpected and unwelcome visit of
"good Mrs. Brown."
Wearily tossing on her bed, waiting for the dawn, she pictured that mistress of a comfortable home, pursuing her with threats; while babies, cheques, Mrs. Dumaresq, and the medical lady whirled wildly past in a waking dream.
At four, she rose, and beguiled the weary
