'That's uncle Bryan's business,' I replied, flushing with anger. The mere mention of his name aroused all my bitterness against him. 'If mother could be moved from this house to-morrow with safety, I'd take her out of his sight without a moment's delay.'
'You'll not see your uncle Bryan again in a hurry,' said Josey. 'You mark my words--he's gone for good.'
I did not stop to discuss the point, but went to the bedside and kissed my mother. As I leant over her, I could scarcely hear her breathing, and but for a light convulsive sob which rose to her throat every now and then, and which she seemed to make an effort to check, it would have been difficult to detect any sign of life in her. The doctor's words dwelt in my mind as I gazed at her beloved face, and for the first time in my life I appreciated at their proper worth the sacrifices which this dearest of women had made for one so unworthy as I. I knelt at her bedside, and prayed that her life might be spared to me--prayed with humble heart--and my tears flowed freely.
Josey was outside on the landing.
'Good-night, my dear,' she said; 'give me a kiss.'
Mine were not the only tears on my face as I walked downstairs.
[CHAPTER XL.]
WHAT THE NEIGHBOURS SAID.
Josey West's prediction proved to be right. When I rose the next morning uncle Bryan had not returned. Josey, looking as fresh as though she had had a good night's rest, told me that there had been no change in my mother's condition--that only a few words had passed her lips, and that those words were about me.
'There's a lot to do,' she said; you've got your work to look after, the shop must be attended to, and there's your mother to nurse. I really think, my dear, that if your uncle doesn't make his appearance, we had best take possession of the place. Two things we must be careful of--we mustn't let the business be ruined, and we must try to keep the neighbours from talking of what has occurred. When a lot of gossiping women get hold of a woman's name, with a story attached to it, they tear that woman's name to pieces with as much pleasure as they would eat a good dinner; and as for the story, my dear, when you hear it the next day you wouldn't know it, they twist and mangle it so. Stop here while I run round to my house; I sha'n't be gone ten minutes.'