"Maybe," sniffed Judith, in disbelief. "It can't be that he sits up to
read," she resumed. "Nobody in their senses would do that. Reading may
be pleasant to some folks, especially them story-books; but sleep is
pleasanter. This last two or three blessed nights, since that ill news
come to make us miserable, I question if he has gone to bed at all, for
his candle has only been put out when daylight came to shame it."
"But, Judith, how do you know all this?" exclaimed Constance, after a
few minutes' reflection. "You surely don't sit up to watch the light?"
"Pretty fit I should be for my work in the morning, if I did! No, Miss
Constance. I moved my bed round to the other corner, so as I could see
his window as I lay in it; and I have got myself into a habit of waking
up at all hours and looking. Truth to say, I'm not easy: fire is sooner
set alight than put out: and if there's the water-butt for me to drop
into, there ain't water-butts for the rest of the house."
"Very true," murmured Constance, speaking as if she were in reflection.
"Nobody knows the worry this has been upon my mind," resumed Judith.
"Every night when I have seen his window alight, I have said to myself,
'I'll tell my mistress of this when morning comes;' but, when the
morning has come, my resolution has failed me. It might worry her, and
anger Mr. Hamish, and do no good after all. If he really has not time
for his books in the day, why he must do 'em at night, I suppose; it
would never do for him to fall off, and let the master's means drop
through.
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