Poppy's mother was almost too happy to answer her; a great load was lifted off her heart, and she lay quite still, with her eyes closed for some time, trying to tell her best Friend how grateful she was to Him for all He had done for her. Meanwhile, the poor old woman was rocking the babies in her arms, and wiping away the tears, which would come in her eyes as she thought of what the doctor had said.
Then Poppy came in, bright and happy, with a bunch of white roses in her hands, which Jack's friend the greengrocer had given him, and which he had sent to Poppy's mother. She was very much distressed to see her grandmother crying.
'What is it, granny, dear?' she said, putting her arms round her neck, and kissing her; 'are you poorly?'
'You had best tell her, grandmother,' said Poppy's mother; 'it will come less sudden-like on her after.'
But grandmother could not speak. She tried once or twice, but something in her throat seemed to choke her, and at length she laid the sleeping babies on the bed, buried her face in her apron, and went downstairs.
'What is it, mother?' said Poppy; 'did the doctor say you were worse?'
'Poppy,' said her mother, 'shall I tell you what the doctor said, my darling?'
'Yes, please, mother,' said the child.
'He said that in a few days more I should be quite well, Poppy; well and strong, like you, my dear—no more pain—no more weakness—for ever.'
'Then why does granny cry?' said Poppy, with a puzzled face.