“Mr. Grace has told me about you,” she said. “And Mr. Derrick.”
Joan's brown throat raised itself a trifle, and Anice thought color showed itself on her cheek.
“Both on 'em's been good to me,” she said, “but I did na think as—”
Anice stopped her with a little gesture, “It was you who were so kind to Liz when she had no friend,” she began.
Joan interrupted her with sudden eagerness.
“It wur yo' as sent th' work an' th' things fur th' choild,” she said.
“Yes, it was I,” answered Anice. “But I hardly knew what to send. I hope I sent the right things, did I?”
“Yes, miss; thank yo'.” And then in a lower voice, “They wur a power o' help to Liz an' me. Liz wur hard beset then, an' she's only a young thing as canna bear sore trouble. Seemed loike that th' thowt as some un had helped her wur a comfort to her.”
Anice took courage.
“Perhaps if I might come and see her,” she said. “May I come? I should like to see the baby. I am very fond of little children.”