Darton followed her, intending to speak.
Pausing outside, as if in thought, she proceeded to a spot where the sun came earliest in spring-time, and where the north wind never blew; it was where the row of beehives stood under the wall.

Discerning her object, he waited till she had accomplished it.
It was the universal custom thereabout to wake the bees by tapping at their hives whenever a death occurred in the household, under the belief that if this were not done the bees themselves would pine away and perish during the ensuing year.

As soon as an interior buzzing responded to her tap at the first hive Mrs.Hall went on to the second, and thus passed down the row.

As soon as she came back he met her.
'What can I do in this trouble, Mrs.Hall ?' he said.
'O--nothing, thank you, nothing,' she said in a tearful voice, now just perceiving him.

'We have called Rebekah and her husband, and they will do everything necessary.' She told him in a few words the particulars of her son's arrival, broken in health--indeed, at death's very door, though they did not suspect it--and suggested, as the result of a conversation between her and her daughter, that the wedding should be postponed.
'Yes, of course,' said Darton.