Part 21 (1/2)
Faulkner is out for the day. Oh, we'll have quite a good time. Come downstairs at once, dear Grannie, for dinner is waiting.”
”Well, child, I am pleased to see you so spry,” said Grannie. Her voice felt quite choking when she entered the big, luxurious house.
”I'll be able to keep it up fine,” she murmured to herself. ”Lor', I'm a sight better; it was the air of that place that was a-killin' me.
I'll keep it up afore the chil'en, and ef I can manage to do that, why bless the Lord for all his mercies.”
David was waiting in the housekeeper's room when Grannie got downstairs. Grannie had never known before what a power of comfort there was in David's strong young step, and the feel of his firm muscular arms, and the sensation of his manly kiss on her cheek.
”Aye, Dave,” she said, ”I'm a sight better for seeing you, my lad.”
”And I for seeing you,” replied the boy. ”We have missed Grannie, haven't we, Ally?”
”Don't talk of it,” said Alison, tears springing to her blue eyes.
”Well, we're all together again now,” said Grannie. ”Bless the Lord!
Set down each side of me, my darlin's, and tell me everything. Oh, I have hungered to know, I have hungered to know.”
”Mine is a very good place,” said Alison. ”Mrs. Faulkner is most kind.”
”And ef it weren't for thinking of you, Grannie, and missing you,” said David, ”why, I'd be as happy as the day is long.”
”But tell us about yourself, dear Grannie,” said Alison. ”How do you like the country, and are Mr. Williams' friends good to you?”
”Real good! that they are,” said Grannie. ”Why, it's a beautiful big place.”
”They are not poor folks, then?” said David.
”Poor!” said Grannie. ”I don't go for to deny that there are some poor people there, but they as owns the place aint poor. Lor' bless yer, it's a fine place. Don't you fret for me, my dearies. I'm well provided for, whoever aint.”
”But how long are you to stay?” said David. ”You can't always be on a visit with folks, even if they are the friends of Mr. Williams.”
”Of course I can't stay always,” said Grannie, ”but Mr. Williams has arranged that I am to stay for a good two or three months at least, and by then, why, we don't know what 'll turn out. Now, chil'en, for the Lord's sake don't let us waste time over an old body like me. Didn't I tell you that I have come to the time o' life when I aint much 'count?
Let's talk of you, my dearies, let's talk of you.”
”Let's talk of dinner first,” said David. ”I'm mighty hungry, whoever aint.”
The dinner served in Mrs. Faulkner's housekeeper's room was remarkably nouris.h.i.+ng and dainty, and Grannie enjoyed the food, which was not workhouse food, with a zest which surprised herself. She thought that she had completely thrown her grandchildren off the scent, and if that were the case, nothing else mattered. When dinner was over the sun shone out brightly, and Alison and David took Grannie out for a walk.
They went into Kensington Gardens, which were looking very bright and pretty. Then they came home, and Grannie had a cup of tea, after which she rose resolutely and said it was time for her to go.
”I will see you back,” said David, in a determined voice. ”I have nothing else to do. I don't suppose those friends of Mr. Williams who are so good to you would mind me coming as far as the door.”
”Yes, they would,” said Grannie, ”they wouldn't like it a bit.”
”Now, Grannie, that's all nonsense, you know,” said the young man.
”No it aint, my lad, no it aint. You've just got to obey me, David, in this matter. I know what I know, and I won't be gainsaid.”
Grannie had suddenly put on her commanding air.
”I am on a visit with right decent folks--people well-to-do in the world, wot keep up everything in fine style--and ef they have fads about relations comin' round their visitors, why shouldn't they?