"There has been an execution in her house," said Herbert, as they
went home. "That fellow went off on Saturday, and left her alone to
face it."
"I thought she had striven to keep out of debt."
"What can a woman do when a man chooses to borrow? That horse
brought them to more unexpected smash. They say that after the
ball, where she appeared in all her glory, as if nothing had
happened, she made Bob give her a schedule of his debts, packed his
portmanteau, sent him off to find some cheap hole abroad, and stayed
to pick up the pieces after the wreck."
"She is a brave woman," said Julius.
Therewith they plunged into the abodes of misery, where the only
other helper at present was good old Miss Slater, who was going from
one to another, trying to show helpless women how to nurse, but able
only to contribute infinitesimal grains of aid or comfort at immense
cost to herself. Julius insisted on taking home with him his
curate, who had been at work from ten o'clock that morning till six,
when as Julius resigned the pony's reins to him, he begged that they
might go round and inquire at Sirenwood, to which consent was the
more willingly given because poor Frank's few gleams of
consciousness were spent in sending his indefatigable nurse Anne to
ask whether his mother had 'had that letter,' and in his delirium he
was always feeling his watch-chain for that unhappy pebble, and
moaning when he missed it.
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