“Not directly, I think,” Henrietta said, “but it is better not to say anything we don't want him to remember. It might be heard by his subconscious mind and held there. Is that what you mean?”
“I suppose so,” said Lorna. “I was just thinking that he must be so tender-hearted! He did not seem to feel the blow until Miss Susan said she would have no more to do with him. It was then he fainted.”
Henrietta looked at Lem. Not an eyelash moved, but she knew he heard all they were saying.
“Yes, you are right,” she said. “He is a dear boy. And Miss Sue loves him; I know she loves him very dearly. Of course it was a great shock to her, having a policeman come to the house, and she said things she did not mean. You saw how worried she was, just now. She does love him.”
The words were meant for Lem's ears. So were Lorna's words when she answered.
“And you don't think he will be sent to jail, do you?” she asked.
“Indeed not!” said Henrietta. “Miss Sue will never allow that. She loves Lem too well. Look! He looks as if he was about to come out of his trance, Lorna! Can't you see a better color in his face? Listen, Lorna; run down and get some flowers. It will be brighter here if he sees flowers when he wakens.”
Henrietta wanted to get rid of Lorna. She knew how the healthy boy's appetite must be raging as the pleasant odors of food came up from the floor below. When Lorna was gone, Henrietta closed the door and shot the bolt. She went back to the bed and bent over Lem. “Lem!” she called. “Lem, wake up!”
The boy did not stir. He lay as rigid as before. She took one of his warm, tanned hands and rubbed it.
“Lem!” she called again. “Wake up, Lem!” The boy opened his eyes. For a moment he stared at the ceiling and then sat upright with the brisk liveliness of a healthy boy.