She got up with the words, dismissing the subject with practical common sense.
"Now I'm going to get you some tea, dear, and by that time it'll have left off raining. See! It's getting lighter already. I'm so glad you came this way. Maybe, you'll come again now, and if there's ever anything I can do, why, you've only to let me know, and it's as good as done."
She bent, in response to Maud's silent gesture, and kissed her tenderly. "Try not to fret any more, darling! Everything will come right. I'm sure of it. I know Jake so well. You only know the rough side of him at present. There's a whole lot of reserve in Jake. He won't show you his heart so long as he thinks you've no use for it. Maybe, he's shy too. I've sometimes thought so."
Maud turned from the subject with a sigh. In some subtle fashion old Mrs. Wright's confidences had helped her, but she felt as if the matter would not bear further discussion. "I shall never forget your kindness," she said rather wistfully. "I wish I had come to see you long ago. I did mean to. And then there came Bunny's operation; and after that--after that--I felt too miserable."
Mrs. Wright shook her head in gentle chiding. "Don't ever again stay away on that account, dear!" she said. "And do you know I've got a feeling that maybe he is miserable too? Why don't you try a little kindness, my dear? Do now! It's wonderful what a difference to sore hearts a little kindness makes."
She bustled away with the words. She also knew that for the moment there was no more to be said. Yet there was a smile on her face as she closed the door--a wise, mother-smile that turned its plainness into beauty.
"Poor children!" she murmured to herself. "They'll find each other some day. And then--dear Lord--how happy they'll be!"
She permitted herself a little chuckle as she set the kettle to boil. Things always came right in the end.
CHAPTER IV
THE LETTER