CHAPTER XLI
UNDER THE WISTARIA
It was three whole days before Margaret saw Richard De Jarnette again. She was wounded and outraged beyond the power of words to express at his apparent neglect. Under the circumstances it seemed almost brutal. She did not even have Mrs. Pennybacker with her, for when the doctor went for her he found her so unwell herself that he had not told her about Philip, fearing that she would overtax her strength to go to them. Margaret agreed with him that this was best, but her heart cried out for somebody to lean upon.
As night came on she found herself listening for his step with an eagerness that appalled her—appalled her and filled her with rage and humiliation as well. But she did not hear it.
Even Philip felt the restlessness which comes from an expected presence delayed—fretting, "I want Unker Wichard to hold me."
"Mama will hold you, darling. Uncle Richard is not here."
"But I want Unker Wichard."
It seemed to her that her heart would break. Not only had this man blighted both their lives but he had stolen her place in the child's heart, and then—left them. It was the way with men.
Philip was so insistent that Mammy Cely said at last, "Yo' Uncle Richard ain't gwine come back to-night, honey. He done say so." Then to Mrs. De Jarnette, "No'm, I don't know whar he went. But look lak he was powerful anxious to git away, for some cause whatsomever. It did so." She had not been told about the new danger.
The doctor came out early the next day and had a plain talk with her.