Part 35 (1/2)
She saved Dan's life--in that fire.”
The poor invalid looked up with a gleam of pleasure in her eyes.
”Did she? I am--very glad; but it--it did not excuse--the other.
That is--beyond forgiveness.”
”Oh no!” cried Kitty warmly, ”nothing is that. It is all forgiven long ago, and we will never think of it again.”
Aunt Pike's hand was almost helpless, but Kitty felt it press hers ever so slightly, and stooping down she laid her fresh warm cheek against her aunt's cold one. ”You must make haste and get well,” she said affectionately, ”and then we shall all be happy again.”
”It-doesn't matter. No one cares,” gasped the poor invalid, tears of weakness creeping out from between her lids.
”Oh, you mustn't say that,” cried Kitty st.u.r.dily. ”You must get well for all our sakes. Anna cares, and I care very much. We all care, more than we thought we did till we knew you were ill.”
”Anna,” whispered the invalid, ”is she--all--right?”
”Yes, Tony has soothed her to sleep, and is sitting by her, and I am going to sit by you while you go to sleep. Dr. Yearsley says you mustn't talk any more now,” and Kitty, seated in a chair by her aunt's bedside, held her helpless hand lovingly until she had fallen into the easiest sleep she had had yet. By-and-by the nurse came back, and Kitty was free to move.
”I think I must go and talk to f.a.n.n.y now,” she thought, and she made her way to the kitchen, thinking very soberly the while.
”f.a.n.n.y,” she said, ”you and I have to steer this s.h.i.+p between us, and for the honour of the s.h.i.+p we must do it as well as ever we can.
I--I am afraid I am not very much good, but I am going to try hard; and I think we shall be able to manage it between us, don't you?” wistfully.
”Of course having strangers in the house makes it more difficult; but we will do our best, won't we?”
”That we will, Miss Kitty,” said f.a.n.n.y heartily, ”and between us all we ought to be able to do things fitty.”
The strangers, Dr. Yearsley and Mrs. Pike's nurse, made housekeeping a more serious matter certainly, and illness complicated things; but Aunt Pike's reign, though unpleasant in many ways, had made others easier for Kitty. The house was in good order, rules had been made and enforced.
f.a.n.n.y and Grace had learned much, and profited a good deal by the training, and, best of all, all worked together with a will to make things go smoothly.
There was hope and good news to cheer them too. Aunt Pike grew daily better; by very, very slow degrees, it is true, but still there were degrees. Good news came from their traveller too--news of restored health, good spirits, and, presently, a longing to be at home and at work again.
And then, so quickly did the busy days fly, they had only a very few left to count to the return of the two absent ones, for Dr. Trenire and Dan were to meet and travel home together. Then the last day came, and the last hour, and then--Kitty found herself once more with her father's arms about her.
”Why, father,” she cried, standing back and studying carefully his cheerful, sunburnt face, and his look of health and strength, ”you are more like the old father than you have been for ever so long.”
Dr. Trenire burst into a roar of hearty laughter. ”Well,” he cried, ”after my spending three months in trying to renew my youth, I do think you might have called me a 'young father.' Never mind, Kitty, I feel young, which is more than you do, I expect, dear, with all the cares you have had on your shoulders lately. I suppose you have left Miss Pidsley finally,” with a smile, ”and I have to pay her a term's fees for nothing?”
Kitty looked a little ashamed of herself as she smiled ruefully.
”Yes. I don't seem able to stay at any school more than one term, do I?
I think you had better give up trying, father, and keep me home altogether now.”
”I think I had,” said her father seriously. ”I think I can't try again to get on without you, dear--even,” quizzically, ”if there isn't always boiling water when Jabez gets his head knocked.”
CHAPTER XXI.
THE LAST.
Aunt Pike grew slowly and gradually stronger, and in time was able to be dressed, and could sit up in her chair. But she knew, and the doctors knew, that she would never again be the same strong, active woman that she was before. The doctors had hopes that in time she would be able to walk again, and take up some of her old ways and duties; but she herself was not so hopeful, and with the prospect before her of a long spell of invalidism, she insisted on leaving Dr. Trenire's home for one of her own.
The doctor and all protested warmly, but Aunt Pike was determined.