“Anna, you are very tired!” cried Miss Penny.
“Only a wee bit and it isn’t exactly tired, then,” declared the girl. “But you know how it is when you go into a painty room or pass by that awful-smelling tannery place beyond Wenham? You don’t draw a long breath all the while and yet you don’t realise that you’re holding your breath. Well, there’s something about Mrs. Langley and her room that makes you feel as if you were sitting on the edge of your chair waiting until you can get out where you see sunshine and people that talk and smile. Her eyes, you know, like coals of fire in the Bible, and great hollows in her cheeks and a voice that seems to come from a cave or a tomb. The blinds are drawn down almost to the window sills and there are medicine bottles to burn. There’s air enough, I suppose, but not the kind that’s sweetened by sunshine. It seems musty and makes you feel as if there were spiders in all the dark corners—huge black spiders with bodies big as this and crooked legs!”
“O Anna!”
“Sure thing! And what do you think? She wants me to come to see her every Saturday,—every blooming Saturday afternoon, Miss Penny.”
“Anna dear, I wouldn’t do it. You really must not,” said Miss Penny gravely. “It would be too great a strain upon you.”
Anna threw herself on the hassock at Miss Penny’s feet leaning her head upon the knee that was not lame.
“Really, Miss Penny, I am glad to go again and every Saturday,” she said softly. “Mr. Langley almost had tears in his eyes when he spoke of it. I didn’t dare look at him again to make sure, because after I had come out of that creepy place it wouldn’t have taken much to set me to crying.”
“I understand,” murmured Miss Penny stroking the girl’s yellow hair. “And to tell the truth, Anna, I almost envy you in being able to do something for Mr. Langley. Ever since he came to be our preacher, I have longed to do something for him to express my appreciation and affection for him, but it always seems impossible. It has always been the other way—his doing for me. And the best things in my life have come to me through him, Reuben and Rusty and now you, Anna.”
“Miss Penny,” said Anna quickly, “you know he visits her every day. Do you suppose he kisses her?”
“Dear me, Anna! what a question! I’m sure I have no idea. I suppose he does.”