For three weeks Squire Talford was a very sick man, and even Maria found her powers of endurance taxed to the utmost, in spite of the aid of Clifford, who insisted upon sharing her vigils at night and doing all that he could besides out of business hours. He pulled through, however, though it was a hard pull; yet when he began to convalesce he mended very rapidly.
Five weeks after Maria's arrival he was able to be up and dressed; his appetite had returned, and he said he felt as if he had "been made over new."
One morning, after she had served him a nice breakfast and put his room to rights, Mrs. Kimberly seated herself directly opposite her patient, with a very determined look on her honest face.
"Well, what is it, Maria?" the squire questioned, for he always knew that matters of importance weighed heavily on her mind when she looked like that.
"I've got something to tell you," she replied, and coming directly to the point.
"Waal, I expect you won't like it very well, but it's got to be told," the woman observed, and flushing slightly. "When I was cleanin' the attic, after you left, I took that little hair trunk o' your'n up to move it, dropped it, and smashed the lid off."
The squire started and shot a quick look at her at this.
"Of course, everything tumbled out," she pursued, "and I had to pick 'em up and put 'em back. I suppose I don't need to tell you that I found among the mess a box belonging to Cliff."
She glanced up as she concluded, to find that her companion had lost some of his recently recovered color during her recital.
There was a moment of awkward silence, then the man curtly remarked:
"Waal, the box had come apart in the smash, and I found a lot of letters directed to Cliff's mother and--to his father. I found, too, the papers that told about Mis' Faxon's marriage and Cliff's christening."
"Well?" questioned the squire again as she paused, but with white lips.
"Of course, I didn't read the letters. I thought 'twas none o' my business what was in 'em, but when I saw them certificates I made up my mind that a burnin' wrong had been done that boy--a wrong that must be righted, squire; so, when I got his message to come to take care o' you, I brought that box along with me."