“I could not help it,” she pleaded. “Anderson gave me such a fright; of course, he thought his coming for me was the best, but when I saw his face I thought I should have died with fear.”
“Nonsense, Violet, you ought to learn more self-control; you know I dislike to see you give way so entirely. Well, we must abide by Dr. Myrtle’s orders and treat you as an invalid.”
“But, Alick,” detaining him as he was turning away, not in the best of humours, as I could see from the night nursery, “I can write for you all the same; the library is quite warm.”
“How absurd!” was the reply. “Do you think I should let you tire yourself for me? I hope I am not quite so selfish, my dear child,” for she was still holding his arm beseechingly; “you must really let me go, for I am dreadfully busy; rest yourself and get well, that is all I ask of you,” and he kissed her and left the room. He was not often hasty with her, but he was overworked and irritable.
We made the most of that week between us. Reggie soon recovered, and as long as he was kept in a certain temperature, and carefully watched, gave us no further anxiety.
His mother took entire charge of him during that week; she came up to the nursery as soon as she was dressed, and stayed with us until Reggie was in bed and Travers came to summon her. She even took her meals with us. Dr. Myrtle thought she was suffering from a chill, and the warm nursery was just the right temperature for her. It was a lovely sight to watch her with her children. I think even Mr. Morton was struck by the beauty of the scene when he came up one afternoon and found her sitting in her easy chair with Reggie on her lap and Joyce standing beside her.
“You seem all very happy together,” he said, as he took up his position on the rug. I had retreated with my work into the other room, but I could hear her answer distinctly.
“Oh, Alick, it has been such a happy week—a real holiday; it was worth being ill to see so much of the children; Reggie has such pretty ways; I knew so little about him before. He can say ‘fada,’ quite plainly.”
“Indeed, my boy, then suppose you say your new words.”
“Do you know what I have been wishing all this week?” she continued, when Reggie had finished his vocabulary, and had been taken into his father’s arms.