CHAPTER XX
THE FEET OF THE FURTIVE
Mandy was not happy in her mind. No matter how tempting the dishes she cooked, her beloved “Miss Kitty” failed to eat more than “jes’ scraps,” as Mandy expressed it in her disgust. But Kitty’s heart as well as her thoughts were centered in the sickroom and she did not linger elsewhere. Weakened through loss of blood and shock, Ted Rodgers had lain partly conscious all through the morning, taking no interest in his surroundings and only rousing when Kitty spoke to him. But even to her he addressed no conversation, being content to hold her hand and gaze at her with his heart in his eyes.
“Do go and lie down, Miss Baird.” Miss Grey, the trained nurse, laid a sympathetic hand on Kitty’s shoulder. “I assure you Mr. Rodgers is better, and I promise to call you the moment Dr. McLean gets here.”
Kitty stretched her cramped muscles and looked at Ted. Even to her inexperienced eyes, he appeared to be resting more comfortably and his cheeks were a healthier color. She felt inexplicably weary; her eyelids were heavy from lack of sleep and her head ached unmercifully. Taking care not to arouse Rodgers, Kitty moved away from the bedside.
“I’ll be in the room,” she told Miss Gray, lowering her voice, “just across the hall, and I will leave my door open. If you want the slightest thing just call me, and I will come at once.”
Kitty’s desire for “forty winks,” as her aunt had always termed her afternoon nap, was not to be gratified immediately, for as she stepped into the hall, Mandy came toiling up the stairs.
“Law, ma’am, Miss Kitty!” she ejaculated. “Dis hyar day am gwine to be de ruination of me. I wish that no-count nigger, Oscar, was hyar attendin’ to his work.”
“I wish so, too!” echoed Kitty fervently. “Have you had word from Oscar?”
“No, m’m.” Mandy had a habit of mumbling her words. “Whar’s Mrs. Potter?”