Yet it was quite midnight when Mary Jane, for once unable to sleep, crept down to her mother’s room and called, softly:
“Has he come, mother?”
“No dearie, not yet. But it’s not late, you know for—him!” replied the wife, so cheerfully, that even her quick-witted daughter did not suspect the heartache beneath the cheerfulness, nor the tear-stained face upon the pillow.
“When he does, I wish you’d call me. I must tell him it’s—it’s all just right.”
“Yes, darling. Trust mother and go to sleep now. I’ll call you sure.”
And neither guessed how long that call would be delayed.
CHAPTER V
MARY JANE GOES VISITING
But Mary Jane Bump was not the girl to be gloomy over anything for very long; least of all over anything so trifling as her own personal afflictions; and the morning saw her hopping about in her narrow home, as merry, as loving, and as helpful as ever. Even more helpful, it seemed to the conscience-stricken mother, than before she had felt the fierce anger of the previous day.
“Appears like she’d try to make even me forget she ever heard what I said, poor lamb! Well, I still think, what I’ve so often thought, that the Lord did bring sweet out of that bitter, when He made her so beautiful inside, even if she is crooked without. And more’n that, to me she don’t seem so misshaped. I almost forget she ain’t just like the rest. Aye, honey? What’s that you say?”
“If you can spare me, mother, after all the work is done, I’d like to go to Bonny-Gay’s house and find out about her. Oh! do you s’pose she will get well?”