“I’m glad you’re here,” John said when he had recovered from his surprise over this unusual demonstration of affection. “We’re going to lift Elizabeth out into a chair for the first time to-day. She’ll be glad you’ve come too.”
“How is she? You didn’t say much about her in your last letter.”
“Wasn’t much to say,” John replied. “She’s better—that’s the main thing. Come on into the sitting-room till I can get her ready and get a quilt in the rocking chair.”
“Got a girl, I see!” Hugh remarked in a whisper as they closed the door behind them.
“Yes, and a good one fortunately. Too much milk and butter. I found that out when I got at it. No more buttermaking in mine. I had the whole thing on my hands for over a week. I turned half those cows out to grass,” John said, bringing forward the chair for the invalid.
“I was afraid the morning I left that she had too much to do with all those shellers on such short notice.”
Hugh stooped to pick up the baby.
“How are you, partner?” he cried, swinging the delighted child up to the ceiling. Jack was wild with joy. Hugh stood with legs wide apart and cuddled the baby to him for a squeeze. This was part of the homecoming too. He was still hugging Jack tenderly when John beckoned from the bedroom door.
Hugh drew the rocking chair into the bedroom and then stopped to stare at the wasted figure wrapped in a quilt who had to be supported while he adjusted it.
“John! You didn’t tell me she was like this!”