"But Minnie's a good little wench, bless 'er heart!" He sat looking dismal.
"I s'll have to be going at half-past three," said Paul.
"It's a trapse for thee, lad! Eight guineas! An' when dost think she'll be able to get as far as this ?" "We must see what the doctors say to-morrow," Paul said.
Morel sighed deeply.

The house seemed strangely empty, and Paul thought his father looked lost, forlorn, and old.
"You'll have to go and see her next week, father," he said.
"I hope she'll be a-whoam by that time," said Morel.
"If she's not," said Paul, "then you must come." "I dunno wheer I s'll find th' money," said Morel.
"And I'll write to you what the doctor says," said Paul.
"But tha writes i' such a fashion, I canna ma'e it out," said Morel.
"Well, I'll write plain." It was no good asking Morel to answer, for he could scarcely do more than write his own name.
The doctor came.

Leonard felt it his duty to meet him with a cab.

The examination did not take long.

Annie, Arthur, Paul, and Leonard were waiting in the parlour anxiously.