She
stammered something about that being wrong; of course David must love
Mr. Pryor!
"They ought to have fresh water," David interrupted thoughtfully; and
Helena had to reach into the hutch for a battered tin pan.
She watched him run to the stable and come back, holding the pan in
both hands and walking very slowly under the mottled branches of the
button-woods; at every step the water splashed over the rusty brim,
and the sunshine, catching and flickering in it, was reflected in a
rippling gleam across his serious face.
All that afternoon he permitted her to follow him about. He was gently
polite when she spoke to him but he hardly noticed her until, as they
went down through the orchard, his little hand tightened suddenly on
hers, and he pressed against her skirts.
"Are there snakes in this grass?" he asked timorously. "A snake," he
added, looking up at her confidingly, "is the only insect I am afraid
of."
She stooped down and cuddled him reassuringly, and he rewarded her by
snuggling up against her like a friendly puppy. She was very happy. As
it grew dusk and cool, and all the sky was yellow behind the black
line of the hills, she lured him into the house and watched him eat
his supper, forgetting to eat her own.
When she took him up-stairs to bed, Dr. Lavendar's directions came
back to her with a slight shock--she must hear him say his prayers.
Pages:
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122