Part 80 (1/2)

She took off her hat and smoothed her hair.

”Well, I am glad he has done that much,” said f.a.n.n.y, ”but I won't say a word as long as you ain't hurt.”

With that she went into the kitchen, and Ellen and Andrew heard the dishes rattle. ”Your mother's been dreadful nervous,” whispered Andrew. He looked at Ellen meaningly. Both of them thought of poor Eva Tenny. Lately the reports with regard to her had been more encouraging, but she was still in the asylum.

Suddenly, as they stood there, a swift shadow pa.s.sed the window, and they heard a shrill scream from up-stairs. It sounded like ”Mamma, mamma!” ”It's Amabel!” cried Ellen. She clutched her father by the arm. ”Oh, what is it--who is it?” she whispered, fearfully.

Andrew was suddenly white and horror-stricken. He took hold of Ellen, and pushed her forcibly before him into the parlor. ”You stay in there till I call you,” he said, in a commanding voice, the like of which the girl had never heard from him before; then he shut the door, and she heard the key turn in the lock.

”Father, I can't stay in here,” cried Ellen. She ran towards the other door into the front hall, but before she could reach it she heard the key turn in that also. Andrew was convinced that Eva had escaped from the asylum, and thus made sure of Ellen's safety in case she was violent. Then he rushed out into the kitchen, and there was Amabel clinging to her mother like a little wild thing, and f.a.n.n.y weeping aloud.

When Andrew entered f.a.n.n.y flew to him. ”O Andrew--O Andrew!” she cried. ”Eva's come out! She's well! she's cured! She's as well as anybody! She is! She says so, and I know she is! Only look at her!”

”Mamma, mamma!” gasped Amabel, in a strange, little, pent voice, which did not sound like a child's. There was something fairly inhuman about it. ”Mamma,” as she said it, did not sound like a word in any known language. It was like a cry of universal childhood for its parent. Amabel clung to her mother, not only with her slender little arms, but with her legs and breast and neck; all her slim body became as a vine with tendrils of love and growth around her mother.

As for Eva, she could not have enough of her. She was intoxicated with the possession of this little creature of her own flesh and blood.

”She's grown; she's grown so tall,” she said, in a high, panting voice. It was all she could seem to realize--the fact that the child had grown so tall--and it filled her at once with ineffable pain and delight. She held the little thing so close to her that the two seemed fairly one. ”Mamma, mamma!” said Amabel again.

”She has--grown so tall,” panted Eva.

f.a.n.n.y went up to her and tried gently to loosen her grasp of the little girl. In her heart she was not yet quite sure of her. This fierceness of delight began to alarm her. ”Of course she has grown tall, Eva Tenny,” she said. ”It's quite a while since you were--taken sick.”

”I ain't sick now,” said Eva, in a steady voice. ”I'm cured now. The doctors say so. You needn't be afraid, f.a.n.n.y Brewster.”

”Mamma, mamma!” said Amabel. Eva bent down and kissed the little, delicate face; then she looked at her sister and at Andrew, and her own countenance seemed fairly illuminated. ”I 'ain't _told_ you all,” said she. Then she stopped and hesitated.

”What is it, Eva?” asked f.a.n.n.y, looking at her with increasing courage. The tears were streaming openly down her cheeks. ”Oh, you poor girl, what have you been through?” she said. ”What is it?”

”I 'ain't got to go through anything more,” said Eva, still with that rapt look over Amabel's little, fair head. ”He's--come back.”

”Eva Tenny!”

”Yes, he has,” Eva went on, with such an air of inexpressible triumph that it had almost a religious quality in it. ”He has. He left her a long time ago. He--he wanted to come back to me and Amabel, but he was ashamed, but finally he came to the asylum, and then it all rolled off, all the trouble. The doctors said I had been getting better, but they didn't know. It was--Jim's comin' back.

He's took me home, and I've come for Amabel, and--he's got a job in Lloyd's, and he's bought me this new hat and cape.” Eva flirted her free arm, and a sweep of jetted silk gleamed, then she tossed her head consciously to display a hat with a knot of pink roses. Then she kissed Amabel again. ”Mamma's come back,” she whispered.

”Mamma, mamma!” cried Amabel.

Andrew and f.a.n.n.y looked at each other.

”Where is he?” asked Andrew, in a slow, halting voice.

Eva glanced from one to the other defiantly. ”He's outside, waitin'

in the road,” said she; ”but he ain't comin' in unless you treat him just the same as ever. I've set my veto on that.” Eva's voice and manner as she said that were so unmistakably her own that all f.a.n.n.y's doubt of her sanity vanished. She sobbed aloud.

”O G.o.d, I'm so thankful! She's come home, and she's all right! O G.o.d, I'm so thankful!”

”What about Jim?” asked Eva, with her old, proud, defiant look.