"I have no patience with her," Piers said, wrathfully, as he closed the door of his den behind him and his sister; "I do verily believe she thinks she is going to be Lady Maythorne, I do indeed."
"Oh! Piers, impossible! she cannot be so foolish."
"My dear, it would be a long plumb-line to sound her folly, or his either."
"But he is in difficulties as to money; he came here because he wanted to get some out of his sister."
"Has Aunt Letitia any money?" Piers asked.
"Of course, she has her own income, and----"
"Will leave it all to Charlotte. Now do you see?"
"I see what you mean, but it must be prevented, it is too preposterous."
"But now, Piers, dear Piers, I want to ask your advice. I could not trouble Gilbert, he is very much hurt," and Joyce's voice faltered. "The man who saved Gilbert's life is Susan's father, Bob Priday."
Piers made a gesture of astonishment. "The man who took our father's life," he murmured.
"Indirectly, not intentionally quite, as we always thought. Piers, I should like to go to the Infirmary, and take Susan with me. Will you help us, and come with us?"
"You may get into another scrimmage, Joyce; is it right?"
"I think it is right," Joyce said, gently; "I asked God about it, you know."
Here was Joyce's sense of strength in weakness; she had always a refuge and a Councillor at hand. Her religion was not one of many words; it was emphatically the religion of Peace--and in quietness and confidence she could rest.
"It seems to me, Piers, as if it would be cruel to deny a dying man this last act of grace."
"Well," he said, "I will go with you if I can get a hackney-coach; a lame fellow like me can't very well trudge down there on foot. But as you do everything to please other people, it is only fair I should try to please you."
"I don't wish to tell mother yet, but I will go and call Susan, dear, good Susan, and tell her to get ready."
"I hope she won't make a scene," Piers said, "I hate scenes, and I don't see what good you will do, but here goes;" and Piers took his hat and went to do his sister's bidding.
Taking a circuitous route by Granby Hill, where two little urchins were waiting to scotch the wheels, the lumbering coach, of much larger proportions than the modern fly, reached the gate of the Infirmary before ten o'clock.