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nurse came she found him writhing and wailing, and his mother on her knees beside the bed, her face hidden in the counterpane. "Take him away," sobbed Mrs. Nevill Tyson. "Ma'am?" said the nurse. "Take him away, I tell you. I won't--I can't nurse him. It--it makes me ill." And forthwith she went off into a fit of hysterics. It was at this crisis of the baby's fate that Miss Batchelor, of all people, took it into her head to call. After all, Tyson was Nevill Tyson, Esquire, of Thorneytoft, and his wife had been somewhere very near death's door. People who would have died rather than call for any other reason, called "to inquire." As did Miss Batchelor, saying to herself that nothing should induce her to go in. Now as she was inquiring in her very softest voice, who should come up to the doorstep but Tyson. He smiled as he greeted her. He was polite; he was charming; for as a matter of fact he had been rather hard-driven of late, and a little kindness touched him, especially when it came from an unexpected quarter. "This is very good of you, Miss Batchelor," said he. "I hope you'll come in and see my wife." Miss Batchelor played nervously with her card-case. "I--I--Would your wi--would Mrs. Tyson care to see me?" He smiled again. "I think I can answer for that." And to her own intense surprise, for the first and last time Miss Batchelor crossed the threshold of Thorneytoft. They found the little woman sitting in her drawing-room with her hands before her, and Mrs. Nevill Tyson did not smile at Miss Batchelor as she greeted her. Perhaps with her feminine instinct and antipathy, she felt that Miss Batchelor had not come to see _her_. So she smiled at her husband, and the smile was gall and wormwood to the clever woman; it had the effect, too, of bringing back to her recollection the occasion on which she had last seen Mrs. Nevill Tyson smiling. She wondered whether Mrs. Nevill Tyson also recalled the incident. If she did she must find the situation rather trying. Apparently Mrs. Nevill Tyson was so happily constituted that to her trying situations were a stimulant and a resource. She prattled to Miss Batchelor about her new side-saddle, and her "friend, Captain Stanistreet"--any subject that came uppermost and dragged another with it to the surface. Miss Batchelor was very kind and sympathetic; she took an interest in the saddle; she assured Mrs. Nevill Tyson that Drayton Parva had been much
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