Part 34 (2/2)
”I can't help seeing things just as they seem to me. Perhaps I do see them just as they are.”
”Oh, no! To a matter-of-fact person like myself, you are clearly very fanciful. If you don't improve in this respect, you'll have to take a course in mathematics before returning to your work or you will mislead your readers.”
”No, I'm going to take a course of weeding in the garden, and you were to invite me into the arbor as soon as I had done enough to earn my salt.”
”I fear you will pull up the vegetables.”
”You can at least show me which are the potatoes.”
In spite of a restraint that she tried to disguise, she broke out into a low laugh at this reminiscence, and said: ”After that revelation of ignorance you will never trust me again.”
”I will trust you in regard to everything except kitchen vegetables,” I replied, more in earnest than in jest. ”A most important exception,”
she responded, her old troubled look coming back. ”But you are talking far too much. Your face is slightly flushed. I fear you are growing feverish. I will call Mrs. Yocomb now.”
”Please do not. I never felt better in my life. You are doing me good every moment, and it's so desperately stupid lying helplessly here.”
”Well, I suppose I must humor you a few moments longer,” she laughed.
”People, when ill, are so arbitrary. By the way, your editorial friends must think a great deal of you, or else you are valuable to them, for your chief writes to Mr. Yocomb every day about you; so do some others; and they've sent enough fruit and delicacies to be the death of an ostrich.”
”I'm glad to hear that; it rather increases one's faith in human nature. I didn't know whether they or any one would care much if I died.”
”Mr. Morton!” she said reproachfully.
”Oh, I remember my promise to you. If, like a cat, I had lost my ninth life, I would live after your words. Indeed I imagine that you were the only reason I did live. It was your will that saved me, for I hadn't enough sense or spirit left to do more than flicker out.”
”Do you think so?” she asked eagerly, and a rich glow of pleasure overspread her face.
”I do indeed. You have had a subtle power over me from the first, which I cannot resist, and don't wish to.”
”I must go now,” she said hastily.
”Please wait,” I entreated. ”I've a message for Mrs. Yocomb.”
She stood irresolutely near the door.
”I wish you to tell her--why is it getting dark so suddenly?”
”I fear we're going to have a shower,” and she glanced apprehensively toward the window.
”When have I seen that look on your face before?” I asked quickly.
”You had a message for Mrs. Yocomb?”
”Yes. I wish you would make her realize a little of my unbounded grat.i.tude, which every day increases. In fact, I can't understand the kindness of this family, it is so hearty, so genuine. Why, I was an entire stranger the other day. Then Adah and--pardon me--you also used expressions which puzzle me very much. I can't understand how I became ill so suddenly. I was feeling superbly that Sunday evening, and then everything became a blank. Mrs. Yocomb, from a fear of disquieting me, won't say much about it. The impression that a storm or something occurred that I can't recall, haunts me. You are one that couldn't deceive if you tried.”
”You needn't think I've anything to tell when Mrs. Yocomb hasn't,” she answered, with a gay laugh.
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