He watched her to see the effect of his words.

She sighed, that was all.  He still remained a little while.  She lifted her head up a little and asked,

‘How long do yo’ think she was unconscious, doctor?  Could she hear things, think yo’, afore she fell into that strange kind o’ slumber?’

‘I cannot tell,’ said he, shaking his head.  ’Was she breathing in that hard snoring kind of way when you left her this morning?’

‘Yes, I think so; I cannot tell, so much has happened.’

’When you came back to her, after your breakfast, I think you said she was in much the same position?’

‘Yes, and yet I may be telling yo’ lies; if I could but think:  but it’s my head as is aching so; doctor, I wish yo’d go, for I need being alone, I’m so mazed.’

’Good-night, then, for you’re a wise woman, I see, and mean to go to bed, and have a good night with baby there.’

But he went down to Phoebe, and told her to go in from time to time, and see how her mistress was.

He found Hester Rose and the old servant together; both had been crying, both were evidently in great trouble about the death and the mystery of the day.

Hester asked if she might go up and see Sylvia, and the doctor gave his leave, talking meanwhile with Phoebe over the kitchen fire.  Hester came down again without seeing Sylvia.  The door of the room was bolted, and everything quiet inside.

‘Does she know where her husband is, think you?’ asked the doctor at this account of Hester’s.  ’She’s not anxious about him at any rate:  or else the shock of her mother’s death has been too much for her.  We must hope for some change in the morning; a good fit of crying, or a fidget about her husband, would be more natural.  Good-night to you both,’ and off he went.

Phoebe and Hester avoided looking at each other at these words.  Both were conscious of the probability of something having gone seriously wrong between the husband and wife.  Hester had the recollection of the previous night, Phoebe the untasted breakfast of to-day to go upon.

She spoke first.

‘A just wish he’d come home to still folks’ tongues.  It need niver ha’ been known if t’ old lady hadn’t died this day of all others.  It’s such a thing for t’ shop t’ have one o’ t’ partners missin’, an’ no one for t’ know what’s comed on him.  It niver happened i’ Fosters’ days, that’s a’ I know.’

‘He’ll maybe come back yet,’ said Hester.  ‘It’s not so very late.’

‘It were market day, and a’,’ continued Phoebe, ’just as if iverything mun go wrong together; an’ a’ t’ country customers’ll go back wi’ fine tale i’ their mouths, as Measter Hepburn was strayed an’ missin’ just like a beast o’ some kind.’

‘Hark! isn’t that a step?’ said Hester suddenly, as a footfall sounded in the now quiet street; but it passed the door, and the hope that had arisen on its approach fell as the sound died away.