Mary Dane, with all her airy ways, had a tender
heart and a soft head, and she turned to and nursed the sick man like a
sister. They took such care of him at the Wortley Arms that he got well,
and in three weeks was able to be up and about.
"This strange gentleman gave the name of Mr. Walls; and he was young and
handsome, and very rich. He spent money like water; he paid the doctor
and the landlord and the nurses as if he had been a prince. He had a
pleasant word and jest for every one. He was hand and glove with Stephen
Dane, and heaped presents on presents on his wife. He gave her silk
dresses and gold rings and costly shawls and gay bonnets until people
began to talk. What did he care for their talk? what did Mary Dane,
either? He lingered and lingered. The talking grew louder, until, at
last, it reached the ears of Stephen Dane. He took it quietly. 'It's
mighty dull for the likes of you here, Mr. Walls,' he says to the
gentleman, looking him full in the eye. 'It's no place for a young
gentleman, in my notion. I think you had better be going.'
"'Do you?' says Mr.
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