‘My God!  I never thought of that.’

The words uttered themselves as he speeded on.  Only at the garden-gate he stayed, and then seemed to reflect upon what he should do.  The temptation was to return into the house and leave others to spread the news; there would be workmen in the quarry in less than an hour.  Yet he did not do this, but hurried past his own door to the house of a doctor not a hundred yards away.  Him he called forth....

About midday a covered burden was brought in a cart to Banbrigg; the cart stopped before the Hoods’ house, and two men, lifting the burden, carried it through the gate and to the door.  Mrs. Hood had already opened to them, and stood with her face half-hidden.  The burden was taken into the parlour, and placed upon the couch.  The outline was that of a man’s form.

In the kitchen were two women, neighbours; as soon as the men had departed, and the front door was closed, they stole forward, one sobbing, the other pale with fear.  They entered the sitting-room, and Mrs. Hood went in with them.  She was strangely self-controlled.  All three stood looking at the wrapped form, which was that of a man.

‘I shan’t dare to look at him!’ Mrs. Hood whispered.  ’The doctor told me I wasn’t to.  Oh, my husband!’

With the sublime love of woman, conquering all dread, she dropped to her knees and laid her head on the pillow of the couch by the side of that head so closely shrouded.

‘Thank God, Emily can’t see this!’ she groaned.

‘Hadn’t I better go up to her?’ one of the women asked.  Both of them stood at a distance.

’Yes, perhaps you had.  But you’ll be wanted at home.  Stay with me a minute, then I’ll lock this door and go up myself.’

At the sound of a hand on the door all turned with a movement of surprise and affright.  There entered Emily, hurriedly dressed, her hair loose upon her shoulders.  She looked round the room, with half-conscious, pitiful gaze, then upon her mother, then at the form on the couch.  She pointed to it.

‘He has come?’

Her voice was unearthly.  The sound gave her mother strength to run to her, and throw her arms about her, sobbing, terror-stricken.

She suffered herself to be led upstairs, and did not speak.

CHAPTER XIV

NEWS AND COMMENTS

As a man who took the world as he found it, and on the whole found it well worth accepting on such terms, Mr. Athel was not likely to allow his annoyance with Wilfrid to threaten the habitual excellence of his digestion.  His disappointment was real enough.  When of a sudden Wilfrid had announced that he could not accompany the family party to Switzerland, Mr. Athel was saved from undignified irresolution by a hearty outburst of temper, which saw him well over the Straits before it gave way to the natural reaction, under the influence of which he called himself a blockhead.