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Why not? There was, nowadays, no practical reason why he should scruple to satisfy any and every whim. And so his roughly sketched plan was carried out. With the sole difference that they took Cuffy with them. For, as soon as Nannan heard what was in the wind, she marched downstairs and said bluntly, she did not choose to shoulder the entire charge of Master Cuffy. The child was anyhow but poorly, what with the colds and things he had had since getting here; a walking mass of the fidgets besides; and if now his papa and mamma were going away as well, she guaranteed hed worry himself, and everybody else, into a nervous fever. Mahony cut short the argument that followed by saying curtly: Well take the youngster with us, and pooh-poohed Marys notion that travelling would be bad for the child. Much less harmful, said he, than staying behind and fretting his heart out. Besides, Ann would be there. Ann could look after him.

I think it will, Poll. Im not going into it with my eyes shut, or any of the flighty notions one has as a young girl heaven on earth and bunkum of that sort. But now, listen to me, dearie, theres things I want to say to you. First of all, Mary, Ive fixed, once were spliced, for Tom and Johnny to come back to this house which they never ought to ave left. I wont say it asnt taken a bit of managing. But my mind was quite made up. Its gone to my heart, all these years, to see how badly those poor lads were cared for. Enough to make poor old Pa turn in is grave.

Well! . . . sitting crying wasnt the way to begin. That was a fools job. She must just set her teeth and make the best of things separation, uncertainty, responsibility endeavouring, when it came to business, to stand her ground, even though she was but an inexperienced woman. And as a first step she got up, dried her eyes, and bathed her face. After which she had trunks and saratogas brought out, and fell to packing

And now for Simmonds.

What atlas? asked Mary absently, having passed to her next correspondent.

News of the serious illness of the Honourable John Millibank Turnham, M.L.C., brought an endless string of callers and inquirers to the door: the muffled knocker thudded unceasingly. People came in their carriages, on horseback, on foot; and included not merely Johns distracted partners, and his colleagues on the Legislative Council, but many a lesser man and casual acquaintance Mary herself marvelled to see how widely known and respected John had been. And those who could not come in person wrote letters of condolence, sent gifts of luscious fruit and choice flowers and out-of-season delicacies anything in short of which kindly people could think, to prove their sympathy. It was one persons while to receive the visitors, answer the letters, acknowledge the gifts. Fortunately this very person was at hand in the shape of Zara. Zaras elegant manners and her ease in expressing herself on paper were exactly what was wanted.

At first, though, even she had to admit there was nothing to complain of.

On taking to his bed he had severed, at one stroke, every link with the outside world: and soon he was to lie drug-sodden and mercifully indifferent even to the small world of his sickroom. But before this happened he expressed one wish or rather gave a last order. The nature of his illness was not to be made known beyond the family circle.