"I'm truly pleased to see you, Mrs. Martin," she said. "Why you're
quite a stranger in these parts, and I did not expect to see you round
now, with one of your young ladies returned and all."

Hannah heaved a profound sigh.

"She's very, very ill, poor darling," she said. "Very dangerously weak
and ill; and I must trouble you to hasten with the paper, Mrs. Jones.
One penn'orth of your most shining note, and two envelopes to match.
Mind you, give me a paper with a good gloss on it, Mrs. Jones."

Mrs. Jones stared at Hannah Martin; but fetching down a box of
note-paper, prepared to wrap some sheets in tissue paper.

"I shouldn't say Miss Primrose was ill," she remarked as she did so,
"though she do seem worried, dear young lady."

When the shop-woman made this observation Hannah's pence tumbled down
on the counter with a crash.

"Goodness gracious me, ma'am!" she exclaimed, "you don't mean to tell
me that Miss Primrose Mainwaring is at Rosebury?"

"Why, of course, ma'am; why, don't you know? why you said but now how
weak and ill she was."

"Never mind the paper," answered Hannah, "and never mind a word I said
about anybody; just have the goodness to tell me where I'll find Miss
Primrose."