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A shuddering whisper went through the house; it became a murmur, and the murmur became an articulate, unmistakable voice. The servants were sitting in judgment on her. Swinny spoke from the height of a lofty morality; Pinker, being a footman of the world, took a humorous, not to say cynical view, which pained Swinny.
She had not moved an inch. How did Swinny know that? Why, the tail of Mrs. Tyson's dress was touching the exact spot on the carpet it had touched before. Baby found himself caught up in a rapture and strained to his faithful Swinny's breast. Whereupon he cried. He had been happier lying in the sun. Swinny turned round to the motionless figure by the hearth, and held the child well up in her arms.
Swinny, tear-stained but inexorable, stood aloof, like rigid Justice, weighing her mistress in the balance. "He's dying, Molly," he said gently. She shook her head. "No; he's not dying. God isn't cruel. He won't let him die." She turned the child's face to her breast, hoping perhaps that his hands would move in the old delicious way.
Wilcox and her own intuitions, after rejecting a dozen candidates on the ground of youth and frivolity, she chose a woman with calm blue eyes and a manner that inspired confidence. Swinny, engaged at an enormous salary, had absolute authority in the nursery.
She told Tyson that she was sorry to leave a good master and mistress, but she never could abide the town. No more could Pinker. And she must go where there was a baby. Then Swinny, having shaken the dust of Thorneytoft from her virtuous feet, called on every member of her family, and told to each the same unvarying tale.
Not violently; he was too weak for that, but with a sound like the tongue-tied whimper of some tiny animal. Swinny had slept through worse noise many a night. Now he cried from midnight to cock-crow; and on Tuesday morning Swinny was crying too. He had had one of his "little attacks," after which he began to show signs of rapid wasting. He had got something which Mrs.
'Old Horace' had left the House of Commons to fight a duel, and at once 'returned, and was so little moved as to speak immediately upon the Cambrick Bill, which made Swinny say, "That it was a sign he was not ruffled." Ib. p. 233. See also, ib. vi. 373 for one of his stories. Fowke. Dryden?" "Know him? O Lord! I was as well acquainted with him as if he had been my own brother."
No sooner was Swinny delivered over to the ministers of love, who dealt with her after their will, than Baby too agonized and languished. His food ceased to nourish him, his body wasted. They bought a cow for his sole use and benefit, and guarded it like a sacred animal but to no purpose. He drank of its milk and grew thinner than ever.
PROFESSOR GEDDES' reply Professor Geddes, in replying to the discussion, said he entirely agreed with the point made by Mr. Swinny, and he should just like to correct what he had said in his lecture by reference to what he meant by a civic museum.
I often think you have only to be in real trouble to know who your true friends are. I'm sure the sympathy and the flowers you wouldn't have known he was lying in his little coffin and Swinny that woman has feeling. I saw her sobbing as if her heart would break. We misjudged her, Molly, we did indeed. Really, her devotion at the last "