She seated herself comfortably and looked about the room. "You've got a good day for your operation," she said. "It's a good, sunny day."
The woman's startled eyes sought her face. She had been living so alone in the hours of the night, that it seemed strange to her that any one should speak out loud of—"the operation."
Her lips half opened, to speak, and closed again.
Aunt Jane's glance rested on them and she smiled. "Dreading it?" she asked.
The lips moistened themselves and smiled back. "A little," said the woman.
Aunt Jane's face grew kinder and rounder and beamed on her; and the woman's eyes rested on it.
"You never had one, did you?" said Aunt Jane.
The woman shook her head.
"I thought likely not. Folks don't generally dread things that they've had—not so much as they do those they don't know anything about.... You won't dread it next time!" She said the words with a slow, encouraging smile.
The woman's face lighted. "I hope there won't be any next time," she replied softly.