— 31 —When Mrs. Sacret returned to the Old Priory, she saw at once that the holland blinds were down. Curtis, weeping, met her in the hall. Martin Rue had died about an hour ago, Curtis had been in the room, helping, as the mistress was quite useless, and the old lady seemed “turned to stone.” The master had begged her “to be kind to poor Susan, who has been the best of wives to me,” and his mother had muttered that she was “always kind to everyone.”
“It is very sad,” agreed Mrs. Sacret. “You must be quite worn out. I declare I am. I hurried back—not even settling my business. Can I do anything?”
“I’m sure it is very good of you, ma’am,” said the humbled Curtis. “The mistress isn’t fit for anything—and the old lady has shut herself into her own room—she’s at the back—and there is not one
