She set the glass on the little table and let the strap slip to the floor. She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him about so that the light fell full on his face. She saw that it was really pale—yes, and wistful. Anse had told her about having seen Billy kiss the pup and cry over it. Now a lump came into her throat as she looked into the grey, unwavering eyes. With a sob, she threw her arms about his neck and drew him close to her. Billy patted her shoulder and let her cry. He could not guess her reason for it, but for that matter he could not understand why he was crying too, unless indeed it was his great and worshipful love still working overtime.
Mrs. Wilson subsided at last and wiped her eyes on her apron. Then she took Billy's face between her hands and kissed him on the freckled nose. "I know how much you miss your own Ma, Willium," she said, "and I know I kin never take her place, but I love you, an' it worries me awful to think anythin' might happen to you."
"Nuthin's goin' to happen to me, Ma," Billy assured her. "I'm feelin' bully. Don't you worry none."
Mrs. Wilson sighed. "Well, if you're sure you don't need these here salts—" she lifted the glass and stood hesitating, "why, I don't s'pose there's re'lly any call fer you to take 'em. It seems too bad to waste 'em, though."
Billy turned toward Anson's bed, from which, for the second time, he was sure had come a faint titter. "I was thinkin'," he said in answer to his mother's quick look, "that it wouldn't hurt Anse none to have a dose. He does grit his teeth somethin' awful when he's asleep."
"You don't tell me, Willium! Why then, salts is jest what he needs. I'll wake him up an' give 'em to him."
* * * * *
It was long after his mother had left the loft and Anse's wails of protest and wild promises of vengeance had given place to the regular breathing of peaceful sleep that Billy lay awake, gazing wide-eyed through the dark.
Above him bent a face with tender blue eyes and red, half-smiling lips beneath a crowning glory as golden as frost-pinched maple leaf. And she would be at school in the morning! It was while pondering on how he might contrive to wear his Sunday clothes on the morrow that Billy fell asleep to dream that he was old man Scroggie's ghost and that he was sitting in the centre of Lake Erie with the big hardwoods bush on his knees, waiting for her to come that he might present it all to her.