"I went to see old Miss Pinner this afternoon, and stayed tea with her," answered Charlotte. "And now I am going to run home." "Would you mind coming in for a few minutes, Mrs. Caromel?" he asked, as they reached his door. "I have something to say to you." "Can you say it another time? It is nine o'clock, and my mother will be wondering." "No; another time may not do," said Duffham. "Come in. I won't detain you long." And being just one of those yielding people that never assert a will of their own, in she went. Shut up in Duffham's surgery, which was more remote from Nomy's ears than the parlour, Duffham disclosed to her by degrees the truth. Whether he had to get out his sal-volatile over it, or to recover her from fits, we did not hear. One thing was certain: that when Mrs. Nash Caromel recommenced her walk homewards, she was too bewildered to know whether she went on her feet or her head. By that time on the following evening she would have seen her husband. At least, such was the programme Duffham carved out. But to that bargain, as he found the next day, there might be two words. Eleven was striking in the morning by the kitchen clock at Caromel's Farm, when Grizzel saw Miss Gwinny driving in. The damaged gig had been mended, and she now drove backwards and forwards herself. "How's the master?" asked she, when she entered the kitchen. "Very ill," answered Grizzel. "He won't be with us long, now, ma'am." And when Miss Gwinny saw Nash, and saw how greatly he was altered in the last two days, she thought as Grizzel did--that death was close at hand. Under these circumstances, she sat down to reflect on what she ought to do: whether to remain herself in the house, or whether to go back to the Rill and report to her father and sister. For the latter had come out of her insensibility; the doctors said there was no permanent injury, and she could soon be removed home if she wished to be. "What do you think, Grizzel?" she inquired, condescending to ask counsel. "It does not seem right to leave him--and you won't like to be left alone, either, at the last. And I don't see that any end will be gained by my hastening back to tell them. They'll know it soon enough: and they cannot come to him." "As you please, Miss Gwinny," replied Grizzel, trembling lest she should remain and complicate matters, but not daring to urge her departure; Gwinny Nave being given, as a great many more ladies are, to act by the rules of contrary in the matter of advice. "It seems hardly right, though, not to let the mistress know he is dying. And I am glad the child's well: dear little thing!"