I'm so sorry, I hope—-"
"Oh, no! I beg your pardon," he said, with equal incoherency, and
raising himself more deliberately. "Your brother put me here to
rest, and I fell asleep, and did not hear you come in."
"Oh, don't! Pray, don't! I am so sorry I disturbed you. I did not
know any one was here—-"
"Pray, don't go! Can't I help you?"
Sydney recollected that in the general disorganisation pen, ink, and
table were not easy to secure, and replied—-
"It is the people in the village who are to dine here to-morrow.
They must have tickets, or we shall have all manner of strangers.
The stupid printer only sent the tickets yesterday, and the keeper is
waiting for them. It would save time if you would read out the names
while I mark the cards; but, please, lie still, or I shall go." And
she came and arranged the cushions, which his movements had
displaced, till he pronounced himself quite comfortable.
Hardly a word passed but "Smith James, two; Sennet Widow, one;
Hacklebury Nicholas, three;" with a "yes" after each, till they came
to "Hollis Richard."
"That's the boy's father," then said Sydney.
"Have you heard anything of him?" asked John.
"Oh, yes! his mother dragged him up to beg pardon, and return thanks,
but mamma thought you would rather be spared the infliction.
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