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Updated: May 2, 2025
It was his good mother, the Countess of Blankton, a most kind-hearted and lady-like person, without any nonsense about her, who gave me the best cup of tea I ever tasted, and spoke with the very best feeling possible. She put it so sweetly that I only wish you could have been there to hear her." "Father, what is the good of it all? You hate turncoats even worse than traitors.
"Our house was in Blankton, a tiny little house, just big enough for Father and me; my mother died, you know, a good many years ago, and Father and I have been always together. He wrote a great deal, historical work, and I helped him, and wrote for him, and read with him.
"How long have you been a private in the th?" "A year, sir." "Where were you before you enlisted?" "At Blankton House School." "Oh, I thought they called that College." "Yes, sir, they do," said Pen, smiling; "but it is only a preparation place." "Yes, for the sons of gentlemen making ready for the army?" "Yes, sir." "And how come you to be a private in his Majesty's Rifle-Regiment?"
If I waited to find a heroic deed of my own performance, you might get tired, my dear. Somehow heroics do not come every day, as they used in story times. But I can tell you one of my father. Will you hear it?" Rita nodded languidly; Peggy looked up eagerly. "It was in the great Blankton fire," said Margaret. "I don't suppose you know about it, Rita, but Peggy may have heard. No?
"There have been two fatal cases of smallpox in Blankton, and that bag has been traced to the house where they were." There was a moment of deathly silence. He went on: "I suspected something wrong, the moment you told me of things that looked new and good; but I did not want to raise a panic in the mill, when there might be some other explanation.
We were living in Blankton that winter, for papa had some work that made it necessary for him to be near the Blankton libraries; Historical Society work, you know, as so much of his work was." She paused for some appreciative word, but none came. Apparently neither of her cousins had heard of the Historical Society, which had played so large a part in her father's life and her own.
He was standing at his desk, with an open letter in his hand, and his face was disturbed as he spoke to the senior clerk. "Myers, it is as I feared about that bag of rags from Blankton. You have kept it carefully tied up, and close by the chlorides, as I told you?" Myers, a clear-eyed, honest-browed man, looked troubled. "I did, sir!" he said.
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