The days crawled by slowly, to the ceaseless sound of the drip-drip-drip on the corrugated iron roof. The tanks ran over, and made rivers about the house—-they were as yet too new to the country to be grateful for any sign of a superabundance of water. All the firewood was wet and sodden, and refused to burn: and the chimneys smoked furiously. Aileen found, to her horror, that there were signs that already her temper was beginning to feel "frayed at the edges"; more than once she caught herself up just in time to prevent herself making a sharp answer to some remark of Tom's. It made her afraid.
"If I'm like that within three weeks, what shall I be in three months?" she asked herself. "Aileen Macleod, you can't be a pig! I'll begin praying Mrs. Wiggs' prayer every day—'Lord, keep me from gettin' sour.' It wouldn't do, with two boys to look after."
A cry startled her, and a heavy splash, and the little mother dropped the food she was preparing and fled to the rescue. In the passage, now nearly dark, Garth's boots protruded from the largest of the tubs. There was water everywhere: and Garth, half-choked, and hampered by his slung arm, was endeavouring to struggle out of the tub. To her relief, he was laughing.
"I'm an awful goat!" he said, dripping, but cheerful. "Didn't it serve me jolly well right for being grumpy!"
"Did you hurt your arm?" asked his mother anxiously, helping him to his feet.
"Not a scrap—wasn't it luck! But I'm soaked, Mother." The small boy gave an irrepressible chuckle. "I say, I must have looked funny! Don't you wish you'd seen me!"
Suddenly, to her astonishment and disgust, Aileen found that she was crying. The stupid little accident was the last straw to her endurance: her self-control slipped from her in the relief of finding Garth unhurt. She struggled in vain to command her voice, and took refuge in silence; but presently a stifled sob made Garth lift his head in amazement, and a tear fell on his upturned face.
"Mother—you're not crying! Oh, Mother, darling, I was a pig—I'm so sorry!"
His arm was round her neck and his cheek pressed to her wet one. The clinging touch helped to calm her.
"I'm all right, sweetheart," she told him. "Don't worry—I was just a bit tired, that's all. You mustn't tell Daddy, or he'd be worried."