Martha's greeting was warmer because of those tears.
"What on earth's the matter, mammie?" she said, hugging her. "Why didn't you let me know you were coming? You've been crying! What's the matter?"
Emily's impulse was to shout out the truth. "I've been so lonely for you, so worried about you!" But she said, instead: "Oh, nothing's wrong. I just got—bored. I—just felt—I couldn't stay in that house a minute longer! I just had to get away or shriek." Emily had heard women say things like that. Unwittingly she had touched Martha deeply.
"Well, you poor old thing! I always knew you must feel that way, living with—in that house. But you'd never acknowledge it. How did you find this place? Quite an apartment, isn't it? I was sick of a rooming house! Have you seen the doctor?"
"Yes."
"She seemed pleased, didn't you think so? She didn't look annoyed. I was told I couldn't have company here. It isn't often——"
The doctor was there with them.
"We're going to have a spread, Martha! The maid's out. You go and get the lettuce, get two heads, get good ones; and some whipping cream; and some bronze chrysanthemums. Oh, it's no trouble, Mrs. Kenworthy! I feel just like it to-day. The time and place and the loved ones to bother. If you can't get the chrysanthemums, get some—something that color. And hurry back."
The doctor had on a white apron, and the kitchen had made her cheeks rosier. She set Emily down to rest for a little in the interesting living room. Miss Curtis came in, and was ordered to sit and talk to her. But every minute or two the doctor came in from the kitchen, and with her a flood and whirlpool of words. Emily scarcely had a chance to say a word all that evening; but the house excited her until her color was almost as bright as the doctor's.
Everything on the dining table was like the hostess. The table mats were of a strong and superior unbleached linen; the vivid dishes called aloud for admiration; the candle-light was flattering. Emily sat excitedly studying the doctor. Whoever put herself into that woman's care would never afterwards dare to call either body or soul her own. But if she was high handed, she was also high hearted. She talked almost without ceasing; and whatever little thing she talked of, she enjoyed so merrily that the three women watching her, shared her delight to some extent. And when she laughed a hearty laugh, every time Emily thought surprisedly: "What a good time I'm having! This is the best possible place for Martha!"