Part 39 (1/2)
”The poor dear has eaten more than she has any time since she's been sick,” she told them with pride, after one of her visits to the house.
”An' there's a little tinge of colour, too, in her white cheeks, an'
she really smiled an' thanked me when I took her in her dinner.”
”That is encouraging, isn't it?” Douglas asked. Joe said nothing though his eyes never left the widow's face, and he listened almost breathlessly to her slightest word about Jean.
”It is a good sign,” Mrs. Dempster replied, as she sat upon the ground and poured for herself a cup of tea. ”An' it's another good sign that she wants to see you, sir.”
”See me!” Douglas exclaimed in surprise. ”Why is that a good sign?”
”'Cause she hasn't wanted to see any one since she's been sick.”
”What does she want to see me for?”
”To thank ye for playin', most likely. She made me tell her who it was, as she was most curious to know. She's takin' an interest in things now, an' that's encouragin'.”
When Mrs. Dempster had finished her dinner, she rose to her feet and informed Douglas that she was ready to take him to see Jean.
”You jist make yerself comfortable, Joe, an' I'll be back in a jiffy.
Lean aginst that tree an' rest ye'r poor old back. It's always good to have something to lean aginst. Since John died Empty's the only thing I've got to lean aginst, though I must say he's mighty wobbly at times.”
Douglas followed Mrs. Dempster into the little bedroom off the kitchen where the invalid girl was lying. He was somewhat startled by the marked contrast between Jean's white face and her jet-black hair which was flowing over the pillow in rich confusion. She smiled as she reached out her thin hand and welcomed the visitor.
”Ye'd better set right down here, sir,” Mrs. Dempster advised, as she drew up a chair. ”I'm goin' to leave yez to have a nice little chat while I clear up the dinner dishes. It'll do ye a heap of good, won't it, dear?” and she stroked Jean's head. ”But ye mustn't talk too much.”
Douglas glanced around the little room. It was a cosy place, and the partly-opened window let in the fresh air from the surrounding fields, together with the sound of the twitter of birds and the hum of bees.
”This was my room,” the widow explained, ”until Jean took possession of it. She wanted to stay right close to me an' wouldn't go to the spare-room off the parlour. I haven't had time to fix it up, an' I've asked Empty time an' time agin to git somethin' to put over that stove-pipe hole in the wall, an' that one in the ceilin'. But my land!
ye might as well save ye'r breath as to ask that boy to do anything.
But, there now, I must be off.”
The good woman's face was beaming as she left the house and went back to the apple tree.
”Where's Empty?” she demanded of Joe, when she discovered that the lad was nowhere to be seen.
”I don't know,” was the reply. ”He got up just after you left, but I didn't notice where he went.”
”That's jist like the boy. He's never around when he's wanted. He does try my patience at times,” and the widow gave a deep sigh as she began to gather up the dishes.
In the meantime, Jean and Douglas were engaged in an earnest conversation. It was somewhat constrained at first, but this feeling shortly vanished.
”It was so good of you to play for me,” Jean remarked. ”I feel better than I have for days. I guess the music has chased the clouds away.”
”I am so thankful that I have been able to help you,” Douglas replied.
”You have had a hard time of late.”
”Indeed I have. It seems to me that I have had a terrible dream. Oh, it was horrible.”
”You must forget all about that now, and get well as soon as possible.”