“Oh yes, he will,” said a quiet, deep voice. It belonged to George Wright, who had come around the other side of the waiting room after helping Lewis Somerville deposit the luggage in Josh’s cart. “He is much better, better than I dared dream he would be. You see, he has had only four months and I said all the time it would take a year of rest and maybe more. What makes you think he is still so badly off?”
Dr. Wright had a ridiculous notion that he could explain to Helen much better her father’s condition if she would only put her head on his shoulder and do her sobbing there, but he buried his hands firmly in his pockets and made no intimation of his idea. He had constantly to take himself to task for forgetting that Helen was little more than a child. “You must wait, you fool!” he would reason with himself.
“But suppose someone else doesn’t wait and she gets snapped up before your eyes—what then?” But wait he felt he must, and in the meantime Helen often felt that his sternness meant disapproval and wondered what she had done to merit it—that is, what new thing. Of course she always knew she had merited his disapproval by her behavior when he had given the verdict that her father must go off on the voyage for health. And now when he said: “What makes you think he is still so badly off?” he sounded very stern and superior.
“He seems so—so—meek,” she faltered.
“Well, who would not be meek with all those parcels?” he laughed. “Your mother had only part of a day in New York, but she bought out the town. I’m meek myself.”
The conversation was interrupted by Lucy, who was always eager to find out what Helen was doing so she could do it too. When she saw her sister’s tear-stained countenance she bitterly regretted her dry eyes but cry she could not, especially as she did not see anything to cry about.
Mrs. Carter, meanwhile, after flitting from daughter to daughter, had cried out: “But Bobby! Where is my precious Bobby?”
“Here me!” said that youngster. “We uns ain’t fur.”
“Bobby! Bobby! I didn’t know you! Where are your teeth? Why did you have your hair cut so short? My baby, my baby!” and the poor little lady enfolded a rather abashed boy in her arms.