The Late Mrs. Null

by Frank R. Stockton

"You don't show it," interrupted Lawrence.

At this Miss Annie laughed. "Kindness isn't of much use, if it is shut up, is it?" she said. "I suppose you think it is one of those virtues that we ought to act out, as well as feel, if we want any credit. And now, isn't there something I can do for you besides bringing another man's sweetheart to you?"

Lawrence smiled. "I don't believe she is his sweetheart," he said, "and
I want to find out if I am right."

"It is my opinion," said Miss Annie, "that you ought to think more about your sprained ankle and your general health, than about having your mind settled by Miss March. I should think that keeping your blood boiling, in this way, would inflame your joints."

"The doctor didn't tell me what to think about," said Lawrence. "He only said I must not walk."

"I haven't heard yet," said Miss Annie, "what you would like to have to eat." "I don't wish to give the slightest trouble," answered Lawrence. "What do you generally give people in such scrapes as this? Tea and toast?"

Annie laughed. "Nonsense," said she. "What you want is the best meal you can get. Aunt said if there was anything you particularly liked she would have it made for you."

"Do not think of such a thing," said Lawrence. "Give me just what the family has."

"Would you like Miss March to bring it out to you?" she asked.

"The word cruel cannot express your disposition," said Lawrence. "I pity Mr Null." "Poor man," said she; "but it would be a good thing for you if you could keep your mind as quiet as his is." And with that she went into the house.