Her eyes fell; the crimson
of shame flushed into her cheeks; and he felt sorry to have asked it.
"Spare me, my lord, for I _cannot_ tell you. Perhaps Jabez will: or Mr.
Hillary; he knows. It doesn't much matter, now death's so near; but I
think it would kill me to have to tell it."
"And no one except the doctor has ever known that it was Willy?"
"One more, my lord: Mirrable. We told her at once. I have had to hear all
sorts of cruel things said of him," continued Mrs. Gum. "That he thieved
and poached, and did I know not what; and we could only encourage the
fancy, for it put people off the truth as to how he really lived."
"Amidst other things, they said, I believe, that he was out with the
poachers the night my brother George was shot!"
"And that night, my lord, he sat over this kitchen fire, and never
stirred from it. He was ill: it was rheumatism, caught in Australia,
that took such a hold upon him; and I had him here by the fire till near
daylight in the morning, so as to keep him out of the damp shed. What
with fearing one thing and another, I grew into a state of perpetual
terror."
"Then you will not have him in here now," said Lord Hartledon, rising.
"I cannot," she said, her tears falling silently.
"Well, Mrs. Gum, I came in just to say a word of true sympathy. You have
it heartily, and my services also, if necessary. Tell Jabez so.
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