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He is quite unconscious that he has departed from his favorite theories, in wedding a yeoman's daughter. Mrs. Little has rewarded Dr. Amboyne's patience and constancy.
Ah, he called on me yesterday afternoon. Might not that have been to bid me good-by?" She looked so imploringly in Dr. Amboyne's face that he assented, though full of doubt. And now there was a ring at the bell, and Mr. Ransome came to say there was a little postern gate by which Mr.
Amboyne's influenza was obstinate, and it was nearly a fortnight before he was strong enough to go to Cairnhope; but at last Mrs. Little received a line from him, to say he was just starting, and would come straight to her on his return: perhaps she would give him a cup of tea. This letter came very opportunely.
Amboyne. "The first time we have ever been separated since he was born," said she, with a sigh. Dr. Amboyne's preconceived plan broke down that moment. He said, hurriedly, "Take my carriage, and drive to him. Better do that than torment yourself." "Where is he?" asked the widow, brightening up at the proposal. "At Cairnhope." At this word, Mrs.
Amboyne's house, and at last the agreement was thus modified: the use of the patents in Hillsborough to be confined to the firm of Bolt and Little: but Little to be free to sell them, or work them in any other town, and also free, in Hillsborough, to grind saws by hand, or do any other established operation of cutlery. The parties signed; and Bolt went to work in earnest.
Coventry then went hastily back to the bridal guests, and Lally ran to the neighboring inn which furnished the four post-horses. Coventry had hardly settled down in his chair before he cast a keen but furtive glance at Dr. Amboyne's face. Then he saw directly that the doctor's mind was working, and that he was secretly and profoundly agitated. But, after all, he thought, what could the man know?
She declined. "Go to bed early," said she, "and trust to your mother. We are harder to beat sometimes than a good many Mr. Bolts." She drove to Dr. Amboyne's house, and sent in her name. She was ushered into the doctor's study, and found him shivering over an enormous fire. "Influenza." "Oh dear," said she, "I'm afraid you are very ill." "Never mind that. Sit down.
Little grateful, and, apparently, in good spirits; but, ere he had been gone an hour, the bare separation from her son overpowered her, and a host of vague misgivings tortured her, and she slept but little that night. By noon next day she was thoroughly miserable; but Dr. Amboyne's man rode up to the door in the afternoon with a cheerful line from Henry. "All right, dear mother. Better already.
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