She was glad
when William King came back and sat down beside her; sickness was not
an agreeable topic, but it was a topic.
"Maggie will be all right in two or three days, but don't let her go
into the kitchen before Monday. A bad throat pulls you down. And she's
had a good deal of pain."
"Oh, poor Maggie!" she said wincing.
"A sore throat is nothing so very dreadful," William assured her with
open amusement.
She drew a breath of relief. "Oh, I'm glad! I can't bear to think of
pain." Then she looked at him anxiously. "Don't you think she can cook
before Monday? I'm so tired of scrappy dinners.
"I'm afraid not," William King said. "I'm very sorry." But that his
sorrow was not for Maggie was evident.
"Oh, dear!" said Mrs. Richie; and then her eyes crinkled with gayety
at his concern. "I don't really mind, Dr. King."
"I shouldn't blame you if you did. Nobody likes scrappy dinners. I
wish you would come down and have dinner with us?"
"Oh, thank you, no," she said. And the sudden shy retreat into her
habitual reserve was followed by a silence that suggested departure to
the doctor. As he got up he remembered Dr. Lavendar and the little
boy, but he was at a loss how to introduce the subject. In his
perplexity he frowned, and Mrs. Richie said quickly:
"Of course she sha'n't do any work. I'm not so bad-tempered as you
think; I only meant that I don't like discomfort.
Pages:
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26