"Why can't he? Can't afford it?"
"That's just it. You see the old lady don't put up—not a cent—and he has all he can do to keep the boys in college." And their conversation stopped, and Grandma heard her own voice—inviting the doctor up to her room—and making another appointment for the lawyer.
Then it was the young minister, a cheerful, brawny youth, whom she had once described as a "Godless upstart!"
He appeared to be comforting young Mrs. Grey, and commending her. "You are doing wonders," he said, as their voices came into hearing, "and not letting your right hand know it, either."
"You make far too much of it, Mr. Eagerson," the soft voice answered, "I am so happy in my children—my home—my husband. This is the only trouble—I do not complain."
"I know you don't complain, Mrs. Grey, but I want you to know that you're appreciated! 'It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a woman in a wide house'—especially if she's your mother-in-law."
"I won't allow you to speak so—if you are my minister!" said young Mrs. Grey with spirit; and the talk changed to church matters, where the little lady offered to help with time and service, and regretted that she had no money to give.
There was a silence, save for small confused noises of a day time household; distant sounds of doors and dishes; and then in a sad, confidential voice—"Why is Grandma so horrid? And why do I have to love her? How can you love people you don't, Lady Isobel?"
Grandma was really fond of quiet little Josephine, even if she did sometimes snub her as a matter of principle. She lay and listened to these strictly private remarks, and meditated upon them after they had ceased. It was a large dose, an omnibus dose, and took some time to assimilate; but the old lady had really a mind of her own, though much of it was uninhabited, and this generous burst of light set it to working.
She said nothing to anyone, but seemed to use her eyes and ears with more attention than previously, and allowed her grand-daughter's small efforts toward affection with new receptiveness. She had one talk with her daughter-in-law which left that little woman wet-eyed and smiling with pleasure, though she could not tell about it—that was requisite.