Dere folks,
I hered from a pedlar my dad is sick up in norwich. goodbye and thanks i am coming back sumday.
yurs with luv,
Jack.
Jack looked at her with his old confident smile.
“See?” he said. “I told you I was coming back.”
“And you’re going to stay too,” replied Jean thankfully. “I’m so glad you weren’t lost forever, Jack. Now you’d better run along to bed.”
14. Billie’s Crisis
Billie failed to rally from the pneumonia as soon as everyone had hoped. Doris was restless and uneasy over her pal’s plight. She would saddle Princess and ride over on her twice a day to see what the bulletins were, and sometimes sit out in the garden watching the windows of the room where Becky kept vigil. She almost resented the joyous activity of the bees and birds in their spring delirium when she thought of Billie, lying there fighting pneumonia.
Jean never forgot the final night. She had a phone call from her mother about nine, to leave Mrs. Gorham in charge and come to her.
“I’d like you to be here, dear. It’s the crisis, and we can’t be sure what may happen. Billie’s in a heavy sleep now, and the old doctor says we can just wait. Becky is with him.”
Jean took off her coat when she arrived, and went in where old Dr. Gallup sat. It always seemed foolish to call him old, although he was over sixty. His hair was gray and straggled boyishly as some football hero’s, his eyes were brown and bright, and his smile something so much better than medicine that one just naturally revived at the sight of him, Becky said. He sat now by the table, looking out of the window, one hand tapping the edge, the other deep in his pocket. One could not have said what his thoughts were as he sat looking out into the shadowy spring night.