"You were too sick, dear, to notice; but I think you'll soon be better now."
The woman prepared the gruel, and, after Gerty had taken it, reseated herself at her work. Gerty laid down in bed, with her face towards her new friend, and, fixing her large eyes upon her, watched her while she sat sewing. At last the woman looked up, and said, "Well, what do you think I am making?"
"I don't know," said Gerty; "what are you?"
The woman held up her work, so that Gerty could see that it was a dark calico frock for a child.
"Oh! what a nice gown!" said Gerty. "Who it is for?—your little girl?"
"No," said the woman, "I haven't got any little girl; I've only got one child, my boy Willie."
"Willie; that's a pretty name," said Gerty. "Is he a good boy?"
"Good? He's the best boy in the world, and the handsomest!" answered the woman.
Gerty turned away, and a look so sad came over her countenance, that the woman thought she was getting tired, and ought to be kept very quiet. She told her so, and bade her to go to sleep again. Gerty lay still, and then True came in.
"Oh, Mrs. Sullivan," said he, "you're here still! I'm very much obleeged to you for stayin'; I hadn't calkerlated to be gone so long. And how does the child seem to be, marm?"