Placing the child on the bed, the girl got up instantly. She went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of milk. It had scarcely touched the woman’s lips before she raised her hand and pushed it away.
“I mustn’t drink that,” she whispered feebly. 265
“I got it specially for you, Peggy dear,” insisted Jinnie.... “Drink it,” she wheedled, “please.”
Then Jinnie sat down again, listening as the elements kept up their continuous rioting, and after a while they lulled her to rest. Suddenly her head dropped softly on the bundle in her arms, and the three—Peggy, Jinnie and the tiny Jewish baby—slept.
Jinnie’s name, spoken in low tones, roused her quickly. She raised her head, a sharp pain twisting her neck. Peggy was looking at her, with misery in her face.
“I feel awful sick, Jinnie,” she moaned. “Can’t you say somethin’ t’me, somethin’ to make me feel better?”
Something to make her feel better! The words touched the listener deeply. Oh, how she wanted to help! To alleviate Peg’s suffering was her one desire. If it had been Bobbie, or even Lafe, Jinnie would have known exactly what to say; but Peggy, proud, stoical Peggy!
“Let me put the baby with you where it’s warm, Peg,” she said, gently. “I’m going to talk to you a minute.... There, now, you’re all safe, little mister, near your mammy’s heart.”
Then she knelt down by the bed and took the woman’s hot fingers in hers.
“Peggy,” she began softly, “things look awful bad just now, but Lafe told me once, when they looked that way, it was time for some one to come along and help. I’ll tell you about it, Peg! Eh?”