“There is plenty for everybody to show Maimie,” said Cherry, in her peace-making way. “But I think she wants nothing now so much as to go to bed. Mother, may she—without waiting for prayers? she is so tired.”
“Maimie may go when she pleases,” I answered, hearing again the hard sound in my voice.
“I’ll go up with you, Maimie, and see that everything is comfortable,” Cherry said kindly. “Don’t cry any more, but come.”
And she was led away, sorrowful still. I think I just kissed her, yet not cordially or willingly. If I saw that the burden had to be accepted, at least for a while, I would not take my share of it with a free heart.
[CHAPTER V.]
ASKING ADVICE.
THE day of Maimie Browne’s unexpected appearance was Thursday; and my husband decided to go to “The Gables” on Saturday, taking me with him. I should have enjoyed the prospect a good deal, but for this new anxiety about Maimie, and what to do with her. Robert and I so seldom went away together.
Friday passed quietly. I did not see much of Maimie, for she was in constant request among the boys; and she seemed quite happy, flitting from room to room, with a show of being busy, yet doing very little.
Once I advised her to sit down and work, suggesting that she might have mending to do. She said,—“No, there was nothing to mend;” and then very prettily offered to help Cherry. Bub before the thimble had been ten minutes in use Maimie was gone again; and once gone she did not quickly return. There seemed a restlessness upon the child which she could not control. At the time it vexed me. Now I can look back with a better understanding of how she felt her position.
Not many words passed that day between her and me. I did not wish to speak hastily, so grieving Robert; yet I could by no means feel cordially towards Maimie, or like to have her in the house.