One pleasant thing happened. On the Thursday, I think it was, I felt better. My sister came into my room and said that Miss Crowther had called, and wanted to see me.
“Which Miss Crowther is it?” I asked.
“The little lady that looks like a bird, and chirps when she talks.”
Of course I was no longer in any doubt as to which of them it was.
“You told her I had a bad cold, did you not?”
“Oh, yes. But she says if it is only a cold, it will do you no harm to see her.”
“But you told her I was in bed, didn’t you?”
“Of course. But it makes no difference. She says she’s used to seeing sick folk in bed; and if you don’t mind seeing her, she doesn’t mind seeing you.”
“Well, I suppose I must see her,” I said.
So my sister made me a little tidier, and introduced Miss Crowther.