The Sleeping Woman
At last it seemed that it was time for him to act, and he shook the sleeping woman vigorously. "What's the matter, Roger?" she asked, drowsily; "is it time for my medicine?"
"No, it isn't time for medicine, but it's time to get up. Your back doesn't hurt you, does it?"
"No," murmured Miss Mattie, "my back is as good as it ever was. What time is it?"
"Almost four o'clock and you've been asleep ever since ten this morning. Wake up."
"Eight—ten—twelve—two—four," breathed Miss Mattie, counting on her fingers. Then, to his astonishment, she sat up straight and rubbed her eyes. "If it's four, it's time for my medicine." She went over to the cupboard in which the precious box of capsules was kept, took two more, and returned to the couch. She still had the box in her hand.
"Mother," gasped Roger, horrified. "What are you taking that medicine for?"
"For my back," she responded, sleepily.
"I thought your back was well."