Mrs. Poynsett's letter had gone on
Friday, and still there was no answer, and this was a vexation,
adding to the fear that the poor fellow's rejection had been final.
Yet she might have missed the letter by being summoned home. Close
to the lodge, they overtook Sir Harry, riding dejectedly homewards,
and, glad to be saved going up to the house, they stopped and
inquired for Lady Tyrrell.
"Very low and oppressed," he said. "M'Vie does not give us reason
to expect a change just yet. Do they tell you the same? Worth
attends you, I think?"
"He seems to think it must run on for at least three weeks," said
Julius.
"You've been to the meeting, eh? Was it that well of Pettitt's?
Really that meddling wife of Duncombe's ought to be prosecuted. I
hope she'll catch the fever and be served out."
"She tried to prevent it," said Julius.
"Pshaw! women have no business with such things, they only put their
foot in it. Nobody used to trouble themselves about drains, and one
never heard of fevers."
Instead of contesting the point, Julius asked whether Miss Vivian
were at home.
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