“Edie!”
“Granny!” was all that either could gasp, but there was no need for more—the lost ones were mutually found! With an indescribable cry of joy Edith sprang forward, fell on her knees, and enfolded granny in her arms.
“’Ere you are, doctor,” whispered Robin, touching me on the elbow and presenting a tumbler of water.
“How? What?”
“She’ll need it, doctor. I knows her well, an’ it’s the on’y thing as does her good w’en she’s took bad.”
Slidder was right. The shock of joy was almost too much for the old lady. She leaned heavily on her granddaughter’s neck, and if I had not caught her, both must have fallen to the ground. We lifted her gently into bed, and in a few minutes she recovered.
For some time she lay perfectly still. Edith, reclining on the lowly couch, rested her fair young cheek on the withered old one.
Presently Mrs Willis moved, and Edith sat up.
“John,” said the former to me, looking at the latter, “this is my Edie, thanks be to the Lord.”
“Yes, granny, I know it, and she’s my Edie too!”