“Poor mother cried, and was so bad when she got here that Gertrude has taken her off to bed,” said Flossie, resting her head against Nell in supreme content.
The last week had been such a hard one for the poor little girl that to-night seemed like the beginning of a new life.
“I am just going to have a look at your mother, Flossie, then I must come back and have a peep at you again; but I shall not be free of the kitchen for another half-hour, I expect. Have you had anything to eat yourself, dearie?”
“I’m not hungry,” said Flossie, with a sigh, as she turned her head sharply at the sound of a moaning wail from the next room.
Nell gave the child a loving hug; then crept softly into the chamber where Gertrude was getting her mother into bed and patiently soothing the feeble complainings of the poor sick woman, who was far too ill to be reasonable.
“I tell Gertrude all this dragging me about will just kill me; but no one seems to care,” said Mrs. Lorimer, looking up at Nell with imploring eyes.
“You shall not be dragged about any more, and to-morrow you can stay in bed all day. This is such a pleasant room when the sun shines, and the view is lovely,” Nell murmured, in a consoling tone. Then she helped to lift the invalid into a more comfortable position in the bed.
Gertrude was patient and tender as the most loving daughter could be. Nell, stealing a look at her, saw the flush on her cheeks and the radiant happiness in her eyes, and guessed that for her the sadness of that home-coming had been lifted and brightened by the kindly consideration of the doctor, who had arranged to be on the spot to help with the invalid when the cars came in.
“Where are we all to sleep, Nell?” asked Flossie, in a weary tone, when Nell went back through the sitting-room.
“Patsey and the little boys have got the room behind the kitchen, and I will either make you up a bed in your mother’s room, or you can come up in the loft and sleep with me,” Nell said.