Grandmother Gaumer was not dead. When the squire and the doctor reached her side, she sat just as Katy left her, erect, motionless, bright-eyed. They put her to bed and there she lay with the same bright, helpless gaze.
"Can you understand me?" asked the doctor gently.
The expression in the brown eyes changed. The flash of perception was almost invisible, but it was there; to the eyes of Katy who stood by the bed, breathless, terrified, it was as welcome as the cry of a first-born child to its mother.
"She is conscious," the doctor assured them.
Uncle Edwin and Aunt Sally, whom Katy considered so dull, returned presently in tearful haste from their farm at the edge of the town. They sat with grandmother while the doctor gave directions for the night to Katy in the kitchen.
Katy looked at the doctor wildly. The lamp cast dark shadows into the corners of the room; it surrounded Katy with a glare of light. Her hands clasped and unclasped, tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Will my grandmother die?" asked Katy in a hollow voice.
Young Dr. Benner looked down upon her. He had not given so much thought of late to the development of his protégé. He had met in the county seat an older lady who had taken his fancy, who needed no improvement, and whose mind was already sufficiently developed to suit his ideas. He looked now at Katy through narrowed eyelids. He suddenly remembered the great plans he had had for her and the greater plans she had had for herself. He began to wonder what Katy's life would be like, he who had just a little while ago been planning it so carefully! He heard in that instant's pause a clear whistle from the direction of the garden, and he decided without knowing the identity of the whistler that there would sooner or later be that sort of complication in Katy's life which would end her education, even if her grandmother's need of her did not. He was so busy with his speculations that he did not answer Katy's question until she was faint with apprehension.
Katy was a sensitive creature; she was suddenly aware of the changed, absent way in which he regarded her. She remembered that it was a long time since the doctor had invited her to ride with him, a long time since he had said anything to her about singing.
"My gran'mom is all I have in this world," she reminded him with piteous dignity.