"I won't!" said Esther firmly, and went in to prepare Aunt Amy's supper.
"I don't feel like I ought to be eating upstairs this way," fussed the invalid as Esther came in with the tray. "I am so much better. That medicine the doctor gave me helped me right away. He must be a very smart man, Esther."
"It looks like it, Auntie."
"I don't doubt I'll be around to-morrow just like he said. So I don't want you staying home from school. That girl you get to take your place is kind of cross with the children, isn't she?"
"She is strict."
"Well, don't get her. I don't like to think about the children being scared out of their lives on my account. So I'll just get up as usual. I could get up now if necessary. And my mind feels better."
"Your mind?" Never before had Esther heard Aunt Amy refer to "her" mind as being in any way troublesome.
"Yes. I suppose you never knew, but sometimes I have felt a little worried about my mind."
"Whatever for?" The surprise which still lingered on the girl's voice was balm to Aunt Amy's soul. She laughed nervously.
"Of course it was foolish," she said, "but really there have been times when I have felt—felt, I can hardly express it, but as if there were a little something wrong, you know. Did you ever guess that I felt like that, Esther?"