Throwing her arms round the old woman's neck, she kissed her
warmly.
"Yes, it really will, Mellow. I believe"--teasingly--"you're just aching to
hear all about it?"
"Well, miss," admitted Mellow, holding the kettle, suspended a moment above
the teapot, "I don't want to seem inquisitive or disrespectful, you may be
sure, but I _would_ like to hear a bit about the gentleman who's going to
marry my young lady. I always think of you as my young lady, you know, Miss
Ann. You were more like a daughter than anything else to Master Tony's
mother, God rest her! Perhaps you have his photograph, miss, that you could
show me?"
Ann nodded smilingly--she knew her Mellow, and had anticipated this
request!--and forthwith proceeded to descant on Eliot's various virtues and
the beauty of Heronsmere until Mrs. Mellow declared that she could, as she
phrased it, "picture it all as plain as if she'd seen it herself." Then,
when the good woman's kindly interest was satisfied, Ann embarked on the
quest which had been uppermost in her mind when she sought the
housekeeper's room.
"Mellow, I'm worried about Tony," she announced at last.
The smile died out of Mrs. Mellow's face like the flame of a suddenly
snuffed candle.
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