She cried with me, till at last I could lie down and try to sleep.
Well, the days and the weeks were very long after that.
Dear mother had a hard time, what with her anxiety about Emma, and my crossness and unreasonableness.
Dr. Elliott came and went, came and went. At last he said all danger was over, and that our patient little darling would get well. But his visits did not diminish; he came twice and three times every day. Sometimes I hoped he would tell us about his new flame, and sometimes I felt that I could not hear her mentioned. One day mother was so unwell that I had to help him dress Emma's burns, and I could not help saying:
"Even a mother's gentlest touch, full of love as it is, is almost rough compared with that of one trained to such careful handling as you are."
He looked gratified, but said:
"I am glad you begin to find that even stones feel, sometimes."
Another time something was said about the fickleness of women. Mrs.
Embury began it. I fired up, of course.
He seemed astonished at my attack.
"I said nothing," he declared.