"My clothes!" said Raby. "The girl wants to break my heart."
"Eh, dear! and I've spoiled the beautiful carpet," said Jael, piteously.
"D--n the carpet!" said Raby, nearly blubbering.
All this time Amboyne was putting himself in Jael's Dence's place.
"Is there a good fire in her room?" asked he, with a significant look.
Raby took the hint, and said he would go and see.
As soon as he was out of the room, the transmigrator began to talk very fast to Jael. "Now look here, Jael, that poor man is alone in the world now, and very sad; he wants you to keep his house for him.
He has been sending messages all day after you, and your room has been ready ever so long."
"My room in this house?"
"Yes. But we could not find you. However, here you are. Now you must not go back to the farm. The poor squire won't be quite so sad if he sees you about him. You know he was always fond of you Dences. You should have seen him cry over you just now when he thought you were dead."
"I am more cared for than I thought," said Jael, softly.
"Yes, but not more than you deserve, my dear." He dipped a sponge-cake in wine. "Oblige me by eating that."
She took it submissively.
"Now another."
She ate another, and a third.
"It's a very wicked lass you are so good to," said she, softly, and some gentle tears began to flow.
"Stuff and nonsense!" said the doctor. "What do you know about wickedness? I'm a better judge of that than you, and I say you are the best girl and the most unselfish girl in the world; and the proof is that, instead of sitting down and nursing your own griefs, you are going to pluck up courage, and be a comfort to poor Mr. Raby in his lonely condition."
These words appeared to sink into Jael's mind: she put her hands to her head, and pondered them. Perhaps she might have replied to them, but Raby came down, and ordered her to her apartment.
She took a step or two in that direction, but presently drew back and would not move. "The women-folk! They'll see me on the stair, this figure."
"Not they. They are all in bed."
"Are they so? Then please let me go to the kitchen for a dry cloth or two."
"What to do?"
"To dry the rug a bit. Just look--what a mess I've made!"
"I'll say it was the dog."
"Will you, though? Oh, but you are a good friend to me this night.
Then I'll go. Let me wring my gown a bit, not to mess the stairs as well."
"No, no; I'll take all the blame. Will you go, or must the doctor and I carry you?"
"Nay, nay, there's no need. Your will is my pleasure, sir."
So Mr. Raby showed Jael to her room, and opened a great wardrobe, and took out several armfuls of antique female habiliments, and flung them on the floor; rich velvets, more or less faded, old brocades, lace scarves, chemises with lace borders; in short, an accumulation of centuries. He soon erected a mound of these things in the middle of the floor, and told her to wear what she liked, but to be sure and air the things well first; "for," said he, "it is a hundred years or so since they went on any woman's back. Now, say your prayers like a good girl, and go to bed."
"Ay," said Jael, solemnly, "I shall say my prayers, you may be sure."
As he left the room she said, in a sort of patient way, "Good squire, I am willing to live, since you are so lonely."