Part 163 (2/2)

”No,” said Mama. ”It's out of the question. He could arrange about his practice easily enough but it's the money for the trip. He'll have to send his paper to be read.”

”It's a shame!” said the young man, ”He ought to be there. He'd do those other doctors good. Why in the name of reason don't the old lady give him the money--she could, easy enough.”

”Joe never'll ask her for a cent,” answered Mrs. Grey, ”and it would never occur to her to give him one! Yet I think she loves him best of all her children.”

”Huh! _Love!_” said Uncle Harry.

Grandma didn't sleep well at night. She complained of this circ.u.mstantially and at length.

”Hour after hour I hear the clock strike,” she said. ”Hour after hour!”

Little Josephine had heard the clock strike hour after hour one terrible night when she had an earache. She was really sorry for Grandma.

”And nothing to take up my mind,” said Grandma, as if her mind was a burden to her.

But the night after this she had something to take up her mind. As a matter of fact it woke her up, as she had napped between the clock's strikings. At first she thought the servants were in her room--and realized with a start that they were speaking of her.

”Why she must live with 'em I don't see--she has daughters of her own--”

With the interest of an eavesdropper she lay still, listening, and heard no good of herself.

”How long is it to Christmas?” she presently heard her grandchild ask, and beg her mother for the ”party”--still denied her.

”Grandma spoils everything!” said the clear childish voice, and the mother's gentle one urged love and patience.

It was some time before the suddenly awakened old lady, in the dark, realized the source of these voices--and then she could not locate it.

”It's some joke of that young man's” she said grimly--but the joke went on.

It was Mrs. Grey's sister now, condoling with her about this mother-in-law.

”Why do you have to put up with it Louise? Won't any of her daughters have her?”

”I'm afraid they don't want her,” said Louise's gentle voice. ”But Joe is her son, and of course he feels that his home is his mother's. I think he is quite right. She is old, and alone--she doesn't _mean_ to be disagreeable.”

”Well, she achieves it without effort, then! A more disagreeable old lady I never saw, Louise, and I'd like nothing better than to tell her so!”

The old lady was angry, but impressed. There is a fascination in learning how others see us, even if the lesson is unpleasant. She heard the two neighbors who talked together before Mama came down, and their talk was of her--and of how they pitied young Mrs. Grey.

”If I was in her shoes,” said the older of the two, ”I'd pick up and travel! She's only sixty-five--and sound as a nut.”

”Has she money enough?” asked the other.

”My, yes! Money to burn! She has her annuity that her father left her, and a big insurance--and house rents. She must have all of three thousand a year.”

”And doesn't she pay board here?”

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