told what she knew concerning Bob Hewett’s accident and capture; his death had taken place early this morning, and Pennyloaf was all but crazy with grief. To Jane these things sounded so extraordinary that for some time she could scarcely put a question, but sat in dismay, listening to the woman’s prolix description of all that had come to pass since Wednesday evening. At length she called for Mrs. Byass, for whose benefit the story was repeated.
“I’m sure you oughtn’t to go there to-day,” was Bessie’s opinion. “You’ve quite enough trouble of your own, my dear.”
“And that’s just what I was a-sayin’, mum,” assented Mrs. Griffin, who had won Bessie’s highest opinion by her free use of respectful forms of address. “I never saw no one look iller, as you may say, than the young lady.”
“Yes, yes, I will go,” said Jane, rising. “My trouble’s nothing to hers. Oh, I shall go at once.”
“But remember your father’s coming at half-past nine,” urged Bessie, “and he said he wanted to speak to you particular.”
“What is the time now? A quarter to
