Dimbie and I—and Amelia

by Mabel Barnes-Grundy

"Now tell me the news, wife," he commanded. "First of all, how are you? Has Renton been to see you?"

"Yes," I replied after a pause, "he came the other day."

"And what does he think?"

"He thinks"—I caught at my breath—"that I am thinner and—not quite so well."

Dimbie turned round quickly and gave me a prolonged scrutiny. Then he threw Jumbles off his knee and got up.

"You are decidedly thinner, Marg. Let me feel your arms."

"My arms," I said, trying to smile, "were always so abominably fat that it is an improvement their being thinner."

Dimbie felt me carefully, then his mouth set in a hard, straight line.

"We must get you away from here," he said, "to the sea, or somewhere bracing. By the time you are ready to walk about there will be nothing left of you to walk."

"By the time you are ready to walk about," I started. Amelia was coming across the lawn, and heard Dimbie's words. Her lips parted. She was going to tell him.