Think of it! She had sat in her chair much longer than I had lived! How terribly sad it was!
“But how do you get to bed, Madam Igland?” I asked.
“Oh, Oline helps me. She’s a kind person, I can tell you. The good Lord sent her to me, you see. Yes, and then there are all the kind people who come often to see me, old and lame as I am.”
Only think! The good Lord had sent Oline to Madam Igland! How many queer things there are in the world! It had never occurred to me that God thought about Oline.
“Yes, she is faithful, she is faithful,” said Madam Igland with a happy face, rocking herself back and forth.
Who would have supposed there was any one who rejoiced over queer old Oline?
I really liked being in there with Madam Igland.
“I ought to have something to treat you with,” said Madam Igland at last. “It’s a shame that I haven’t anything. But you must come in again, for there will soon be some kittens here, and perhaps I may then have some good little treat for you.”
I had sat and pondered over something I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get it out until we were at the door.
“Madam Igland, won’t you let me come in and help you sometimes? Help you get to bed or whatever you like?”