"Why, what is this? Where have you been? What's the matter? Ain't you a fool, good and strong? Mercy! how you look—how your teeth do chatter! Now, speak out and let's know if you really are alive!" cried the kind-hearted creature, attempting to shake the wet from my shawl, but, finding that hopeless, wringing it between both hands, like a washerwoman.
"I've been with her all day; haven't left her one minute alone—not even with him. When he came, I planted myself by the bed, and there I stood like a monument. She kept asking for you."
"For me?" I faltered, smitten with compunction. "I did not think of that."
"You've given up thinking of anything, I'm afraid," said Lottie, shivering. "It wasn't just the thing to run off and leave me to bear the brunt of all their looks and questions! Not that I answered them—oh, no! but I wanted to get off and have a good cry as well as you."
"I am very sorry, Lottie."
"But that was nothing till she asked for you over and over again; then I'd 'a' given anything to have jumped up and after you. Besides, Miss Jessie was hunting up and down, wondering where you were, and Mr. Lee looked like a thunder-cloud."
"Mr. Lee?"
"Yes, Mr. Lee! But there you stand with your teeth going chatter—chatter—chatter—like a squirrel cracking hickory-nuts. Do come into the house!"
I followed her, meekly enough; she scolding and reviling, and petting me all the way as if I had been a lap-dog out of favor.
When we reached the house, it was late in the afternoon. I had eaten nothing that day, and still loathing the idea of food, felt its want in all my frame.