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"I did not know in all the world anybody was sorry. You can't be sorry I'm a " I motioned Mrs. Mundy to go out. "Leave her with me," I said. "Come back presently, but leave her awhile with me." Going over to the window, I stood beside it until the choking sobs grew fainter and fainter, and then, turning away, I drew two chairs close to the fire and told Etta to come and sit by me.
Mr. Thorne will doubtless make his brother go away. Can you see her to-morrow and bring her here?" Mrs. Mundy got up. "You are dead tired and ought to go to bed. Night before last you didn't sleep two hours, and I heard you up late last night. You mustn't take things too hard, Miss Dandridge." She put her warm hands on my cold ones.
She pointed ahead of her. "Please look at Mrs. Mundy. She'll split her best black silk if she doesn't stop." Mrs. Mundy's cackles were getting shorter and shorter and, wiping her eyes, she joined us and nodded at Mr. Guard. "I haven't laughed as much since the first time I went to the circus, and if there's anything better for the insides than laughing, I've never took it.
And as the wave of hot blood left him and he grew cool and his saner judgment came back to him he called out to them sternly, but not threateningly, not mockingly: "Ben! Mundy! you, Peters! and you, Lark! what's the use? Hasn't this thing gone far enough? You can kill me, but what good will it do? Your whisky is spilled, and you can't get it back.
"Perhaps she can be sent somewhere in the country," I said, after a while. "Mr. Guard might know of some one who will take her. Certainly she can stay here until until he knows what is best to do." Mrs. Mundy got up. For a moment she looked at me, started to say something, then went out of the room. She was crying. I wonder if I said anything I shouldn't. "Tell me of your mother's garden."
Kitty leaned forward, and Etta, with twisting hands, looked at her and then at Mrs. Mundy and then at me, and in her eyes was piteous appeal. "There's no chance for me, but I've got a little baby girl. What's going to become of her? In God's name, can't you do something to make good women understand? Make them know the awfulness awfulness "
The bird on the apple-tree had stopped its singing, and the sun was no longer shining. In the hall I heard Mrs. Mundy go to the door, heard it open; then heavier footsteps came toward us, I looked around. Selwyn was standing in the doorway. Selwyn closed the door, put his hat and overcoat on a chair beside it, and came over to the fire.
"No," I said. "Bring her up-stairs. There's a room all fixed, and you have so much to do." I put my hand on Mrs. Mundy's arm. "I can take care of her. Can't we take her up-stairs?" A swift look passed between Mrs. Mundy and Mr. Guard. "No." The latter shook his head. "It is better for her to be down here."
Here you are, young, entirely without encumbrances, as the advertisements say, no relations to worry you, with plenty of money, let alone what you make by writing, and yet you are not happy. What is the matter with you?" "I don't diagnose many cases like yours, old boy, down by the side of the water, among the hardy patients of Mundy & Barton, general practitioners.
She ain't left him day or night since he was taken sick, and except the doctor she won't let any one come in the room." The words of the girl talking to Mrs. Mundy repeated themselves with such distinctness that it seemed Selwyn would hear the thick beating of my heart and understand its wonder as to who the man was who was ill, who the girl who was nursing him. Did Mrs. Mundy know?
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