I rose, and she caught my hand, whispering: “I shall be happy, Mary! I shall be really happy now!” And then I turned and fled, and when I was out of sight of the doorway, I literally ran. At the other end of the veranda I sank down upon the steps, and wept softly to myself.
17. The launch arrived, bringing the nitrate of silver. A solution was dropped into the baby’s eyes, and then we could do nothing but wait. I might have lain down and really tried to rest; but the maid came again, with the announcement that Sylvia was asking for her aunt. Excuses would have tended to excite her suspicions; so poor Mrs. Tuis had to take her turn at facing the ordeal, and I had to drill and coach her for it. I had a vision of the poor lady going in to her niece, and suddenly collapsing. Then there would begin a cross-examination, and Sylvia would worm out the truth, and we might have a case of puerperal fever on our hands.
This I explained afresh to Mrs. Tuis, having taken her into her own room and closed the door for that purpose. She clutched me with her shaking hands and whispered, “Oh, Mrs. Abbott, you will never let Sylvia find out what caused this trouble?”
I drew on my reserve supply of patience, and answered, “What I shall let her find out in the end, I don’t know. We shall be guided by circumstances, and this is no time to discuss the matter. The point is now to make sure that you can go in and stay with her, and not let her get an idea there’s anything wrong.”
“Oh, but you know how Sylvia reads people!” she cried, in sudden dismay.
“I’ve fixed it for you,” I said. “I’ve provided something you can be agitated about.”
“What is that?”
“It’s me.” Then, seeing her look of bewilderment, “You must tell her that I’ve affronted you, Mrs. Tuis; I’ve outraged your sense of propriety. You’re indignant with me and you don’t see how you can remain in the house with me—”
“Why, Mrs. Abbott!” she exclaimed, in horror.
“You know it’s truth to some extent,” I said.