COUSINS
Contrary to the physicians’ fears, Erastus Bean’s condition improved day by day. Polly went often to see him, delighting the little man with her small attentions and her ready sympathy. It was on a Monday morning that he found out the letter had been missing from the rosewood box, and he was at once perturbed over the loss.
“Jane must ’a’ put it some’er’s else, some’er’s else,” he complained, over and over, although Polly begged him not to worry.
“It doesn’t matter so very much if I don’t know who those relations are,” she assured him, “and anyway we may find the letter sometime.”
“Yer don’t s’pose the Doctor said anything to Jane about it?” he queried suddenly, his eyes sharp with anxiety.
“Oh, no! I guess not,” Polly replied easily.
“Wal, yer won’t let him, will yer?” he pleaded. “Cause I’ll sure find it soon’s I git home, an’ Jane, she’s kind o’ cranky, yer know! But she’s got her good streaks, Jane has! She brought me a bowl o’ custard th’ other day—that was proper nice o’ Jane!” His wrinkled face lighted at remembrance of the unexpected kindness.
Polly smiled in response, while she wondered vaguely if Aunt Jane really loved the little man whom she ordered about with the authority of a mother.
“It’s too bad ’bout that letter,” Mr. Bean rambled on. “Yer’d ought to find out who them relations be—an’ ’fore they have time to die. Folks go off so quick now’days, an’ mebbe, if they only knew yer, they’d leave you some o’ their prope’ty so’s you could live like a queen—ther’ ain’t no tellin’.”