"I never heard of such a thing," breathed Mrs. Richards from the pillows.
"Of course while you were living, Charlotte," Persis continued, as if the release so cheerfully anticipated by the invalid had already been consummated, "I never should have allowed myself to think of Nelson twice. But I own I've blamed my mother more than once for sending him about his business the way she did. Nelson is a man in a thousand, steady and affectionate and a careful provider. If he's been so good to you, Charlotte, just think what the second wife has reason to expect!"
In muffled tones Mrs. Richards confided to the pillow that never in all her life—and seemed unable to proceed further.
"Well, I must be going." Suiting the action to the words, Persis rose.
"Send for me any time, Charlotte. Ever since I heard about your state
of health, I've felt drawn to you, same as if you were a sister. Mind,
I'll drop my sewing and everything any time you want me. And as for
Nelson's future, don't you give yourself an anxious thought about that."
"Good-by," said Mrs. Richard's faintly, and closed her eyes. And with a commiserative glance in which lurked a spice of humor, Persis withdrew. At the door she encountered Nelson Richards hurrying home early from his work to spend as much time as possible with his wife. Anxiety had left its signature on Nelson's jovial face. He walked with dragging step and drooping shoulders, apprehension counterfeiting age. But at the sight of Persis he roused himself from his customary abstraction.
"Hello, Persis. Well, I declare you're a sight for sore eyes." He regarded her with frank admiration, an unconscious tribute to the effectiveness of the gray crêpe. "Looks like you was renewing your youth," he continued with heavy gallantry. "Ain't seen you look so handsome since you was sixteen."
Persis had not invented the episode of Nelson's boyish admiration. In all important details she had held rigidly to the truth, though it is doubtful whether those innocent, sexless kisses at the gate had been recalled in the past dozen years by either party to the transaction. But it was true that Nelson Richards had always had a warm spot in his affections for his first sweetheart, and the cordiality of his greeting was by no means perfunctory.
Persis smiled upon him kindly.
"Thank you, Nelson. Wish I could say as much for you, but to tell the truth, you look to me a little peaked."
"Well, I have felt better." He lowered his big voice discreetly. "Fact is I'm worried pretty near to death over Charlotte. What do you think about her, Persis? Doctor says he don't find nothing out of shape with her organs. Looks as if she'd ought to pick up, don't it?"