The Late Mrs. Null

by Frank R. Stockton

"I am very sorry," she said.

"Because I was coming to you," he said, grimly, "or because I hurt myself?"

"You ought to be ashamed to speak in that way," she answered, "but I won't find fault with you, now that you are in such pain. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, thank you," said Lawrence. "I will lean on this good man, and I think I can hop to the house."

"Peggy," said Miss Roberta, "walk on the other side of the gentleman, and let him lean upon your shoulder. I will go on and have something prepared to put on his ankle."

With one side supported by the stout Isham, and his other hand resting on the shoulder of the good little Peggy, who bore up as strongly under it as if she had been a big walking-stick, Lawrence slowly made his way to the house. Miss March got there sometime before he did, and was very glad to find that Mrs Keswick had not yet gone out on the walk for which she was prepared. That circumspect old lady had found this and that to occupy her, while she so managed her household matters, that one thing should follow another, to detain her niece. But when she heard what had happened, all other impulses gave way to those which belonged to a head nurse and a mistress of emergencies. She set down her umbrella; shouted an order to Letty to put a kettle of water on the fire; brought from her own room some flannel and two bottles of embrocation; and then stopping a moment to reflect, ordered that the office should be prepared for Mr Croft, for it would be a shame to make a gentleman, with a sprained ankle, clamber up stairs.

The office was a small building in the wide front yard, not very far from the house, and opposite to the arbor, which has been before mentioned. It was one story high, and contained one large and comfortable room. Such buildings are quite common on Virginian farms, and although called offices are seldom used in an official way, being generally appropriated to the bachelors of the family or their gentleman visitors. This one was occupied by Junius Keswick, when he was at home, and a good many of his belongings were now in it; but as it was at present unoccupied, nothing could be more proper than that Mr Croft should have it.

CHAPTER XIX.

About noon of the day of Mr Croft's accident, Uncle Isham had occasion to go to the cabin of the venerable Aunt Patsy, and, of course he told her what had happened to the gentleman whom he and Aunt Patsy still supposed to be Miss Annie's husband. The news produced a very marked effect upon the old woman. She put down the crazy quilt, upon the unfinished corner of which she was making a few feeble stitches, and looked at Uncle Isham with a troubled frown. She was certain that this was the work of old Mrs Keswick, who had succeeded, at last, in conjuring the young husband; and the charm she had given him, and upon which she had relied to avert the ill will of "ole miss," had proved unavailing. The conjuring had been accomplished so craftily and slyly, the bewitched plank in one place, and Mrs Keswick far off in another, that there had been no chance to use the counteracting charm. And yet Aunt Patsy had thought it a good charm, a very good one indeed.

Early in her married life Mrs Keswick had been the mother of a little girl. It had died when it was very small, and it was the only child she ever had. Of this infant she preserved, as a memento, a complete suit of its clothes, which she regarded with a feeling almost religious. Years ago, however, Aunt Patsy, in order to protect herself against the conjuring powers of the mistress of the house, in which she then served as a sort of supervising cook, had possessed herself of the shoes belonging to the cherished suit of clothes. She knew the sacred light in which they were regarded by their owner, and she felt quite sure that if "ole miss" ever attempted, in one of her fits of anger, to exercise her power of limb twisting or back contortion upon her, that the sight of those little blue shoes would create a revulsion of feeling, and, as she put it to herself, "stop her mighty short." The shoes had never been missed, for the box containing the suit was only opened on one day of the year, and then all the old lady could endure was a peep at the little white frock which covered the rest of the contents; and Aunt Patsy well knew that the sight of those little blue shoes would be to her mistress like two little feet coming back from the grave.