CHAPTER XXVI.
PRELIMINARIES.
At last, just as the nephew was positively fainting from exhaustion, in came his kind old aunt to bed.

She talked a good deal to herself, did Mrs.Quarles, and Simon heard her say, "Poor fellow--poor, dear Simon, he was taken bad last night, and has seemed queerish in the head all day: pray God nothing's amiss with the boy!" The boy's heart (he was forty) smote him as he heard: yes, even he was vexed that Aunt Bridget could be so foolishly fond of him.

But he would go on now, and not have all his toil for nothing.

"I'm in for it," said he, "and there's an end." Ay, Simon, you are, indeed, in for it; the devil has locked you in--but as to the end, we shall see, we shall see.
"I shouldn't wonder now," the good old soul went on to say, "if Simon's wentured out without his hat to cool a head-ache: his grand-father--peace be with him! died, poor man, in a Lunacy 'Sylum: alack, Si, I wish you mayn't be going the same road.

No, no, I hope not--he's always so prudent-like, and wise, and good; so kind, too, to a poor old fool like me:" and the poor old fool began to cry again.
"Silly boy--but he'll take cold at any rate: Sarah!" (here Mrs.Quarles rung her bell, and the still-maid answered it.) "Sarah Stack, sit up awhile for Mr.Jennings, and when he comes in, send him here to me.