"Pattie will soon come back," the doctor said, holding Dot's hand. "She's going for a little walk."
"And I'll bring you some flowers, Dot," Pattie stooped over the bed.
That made Dot submit for the moment, and she slipped away.
It was a lovely morning; and if Pattie could have felt easy about Dot, left at home in charge of Mrs. Cragg, she would have enjoyed her breath of fresh morning air—not very early air, since it was past eleven, but deliciously fresh. She went at a good pace down the street, intending to take a run to the nearest meadow, on the banks of which, close to a tiny stream, she might hope to find a few wild-flowers. Not many remained now; but it did not take much to satisfy Dot.
On her way she met two or three of Mrs. Cragg's friends, people whom she had often seen and spoken with. Pattie noticed, with a feeling of slight surprise, that they hardly observed her. One of them looked away; one of them gave her a curt nod; one stared her rudely straight in the face. Pattie felt disturbed, wondering what the change of manner might mean. She did not care for any of Mrs. Cragg's friends, and she felt that they did not care for her; still, they had hitherto been civil. Naturally the question came up in her mind—had anything been said to turn them against her?
Pattie slackened her speed, and walked thoughtfully. She knew Mrs. Cragg too well not to know the possibility of this,—even at a time when she was devoting herself to the child, and when Mrs. Cragg might be supposed to owe much to her.
Somebody stopped. Pattie involuntarily stopped too, before looking up, to find herself face to face with Mrs. Smithers. She and Mrs. Smithers had met fairly often, and neither liked the other very much. The chemist's wife wore a look of complacent superiority.
"Good morning," she said. "Tisn't often we see you strolling about this time of day, Pattie."
Mrs. Smithers was given to calling people by their Christian names, with or without leave.
"No. I shall not be out long."