“Bless your soul an’ body, I’ve no need of help,” was her answer. “You don’t weigh nothin’, an’ even if you did, I’ve moved so many folks that I wouldn’t hesitate. You ain’t afraid, are you?”
“Mercy, no.”
“There’s no cause for you to be,” went on the nurse reassuringly. “I know what I’m about. All you’ve got to do is to mind what I tell you.”
Ellen’s jaw squared itself.
“I ’spect that’s about all I’ll ever do again,” she returned in a biting tone.
The proposed adventure subsequently 223 resolved itself into a much simpler undertaking than it had promised, for Ellen was light as a feather and Melvina strong, deft, and experienced. Hence without mishap the invalid was transferred to the big chair and rolled to the window, where she could look out on the valley melting into the shadows of evening.
Had she restricted her observations to the scenery she might have returned to her couch refreshed both in mind and body; but unluckily she chanced to let her glance wander to the garden, and there an astonishing sight met her eyes.
In the seclusion of the lilac hedge stood two figures, that of a man and a woman. The man held in his hand a trowel and was transplanting in the rich brown soil some tender green things which the woman was handing him from a basket. The presence of a stranger who was apparently so much at home within her boundaries was in itself sufficient to arouse Ellen’s curiosity; but what whetted curiosity to indignation was the manner in which the pair were performing the simple task. Even a person blind to romance and deaf to sentiment could not help realizing that the planting was a very immaterial part of the pastoral tableau, and 224 there was much more significance in the drama than the setting out of young seedlings.
Fascinated, Ellen gazed, her wrath rising.
“Melviny!” she burst out at last, “come here!”