Myra came forward gently, her sweet face looking rather grave. I put out my hand, and she smiled.
"May she stay with me a little?" I asked Mrs. Cranston.
"Of course she may—that's what she came for," said the grandmother heartily. "But I don't think you should talk much. Missie's voice sounds as if it hurt her to speak," she went on, turning to Miss Fenmore.
"It doesn't hurt me much," I said. "I daresay I shall be quite well to-morrow. I am so glad I'm here—I wouldn't have liked to be ill at school," and I gave a little shudder. "I'm quite happy now that Dr. Fallis says it's not true about father and mamma getting ill at that place, and I don't want to ask Mr. Cranston anything now, thank you. It was about Mrs. Selwood, but I don't mind now."
I had been sitting up a little—now I laid my head down on the pillows again with a little sigh, half of weariness, half of relief.
Mrs. Cranston looked at me rather anxiously.
"Are you very tired, my dear?" she said. "Perhaps it would be better for Myra not to stay just now."
"Oh, please let her stay," I said; "I like to see her."
So Myra sat down beside my bed and took hold of my hand, and though we did not speak to each other, I liked the feeling of her being there.
Mrs. Cranston left the room then, and Miss Fenmore followed her. I think the old lady had made her a little sign to do so, though I did not see it. Afterwards I found out that Mrs. Cranston had thought me looking very ill, worse than she had expected, and she wanted to hear from Miss Fenmore if it was natural to me to look so pale.