Anne of Ingleside. L. M. Montgomery

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СКАЧАТЬ afternoon and evening, to which Mary Maria Blythe had contributed by taking "a stitch in her side" just when the tension was greatest. She had to have a hot-water bottle and a rub with liniment, and finished up with a wet cloth over her eyes because "one of her headaches" had come on.

      Susan had wakened at three with a very strange feeling that somebody wanted her very badly. She had risen and tiptoed down the hall to the door of Mrs. Blythe's room. All was silence there … she could hear Anne's soft regular breathing. Susan made the rounds of the house and returned to her bed, convinced that that strange feeling was only the hangover of a nightmare. But for the rest of her life Susan believed she had had what she had always scoffed at and what Abby Flagg, who "went in" for spiritualism, called "a physic experience."

      "Walter was calling me and I heard him," she averred.

      Susan got up and went out again, thinking that Ingleside was really possessed that night. She was attired only in a flannel nightdress, which had shrunk in repeated washing till it was well above her bony ankles: but she seemed the most beautiful thing in the world to the white-faced, trembling little creature whose frantic grey eyes stared up at her from the landing.

      "Walter Blythe!"

      In two steps Susan had him in her arms … her strong, tender arms.

      "Susan … is Mother dead?" said Walter.

      In a very brief time everything had changed. Walter was in bed, warm, fed, comforted. Susan had whisked on a fire, got him a hot cup of milk, a slice of golden-brown toast and a big plateful of his favourite "monkey face" cookies, and then tucked him away with a hot-water bottle at his feet. She had kissed and anointed his little bruised knee. It was such a nice feeling to know that someone was looking after you … that someone wanted you … that you were important to someone.

      "And you're sure, Susan, that Mother isn't dead?"

      "Your mother is sound asleep and well and happy, my lamb."

      "And wasn't she sick at all? Opal said … "

      "Well, lamb, she did not feel very well for a while yesterday, but that is all over and she was never in any danger of dying this time. You just wait till you have had a sleep and you will see her … and something else. If I had hold of those young Satans at Lowbridge! I just cannot believe that you walked all the way home from Lowbridge. Six miles! On such a night!"

      "I suffered awful agony of mind, Susan," said Walter gravely. But it was all over; he was safe and happy; he was … home … he was …

      He was asleep.

      It was nearly midday before he woke, to see sunshine billowing in through his own windows, and limped in to see Mother. He had begun to think he had been very foolish and maybe Mother would not be pleased with him for running away from Lowbridge. But Mother only put an arm around him and drew him close to her. She had heard the whole story from Susan and had thought of a few things she intended to say to Jen Parker.

      "Oh, Mummy, you're not going to die … and you still love me, don't you?"

      "Darling, I've no notion of dying … and I love you so much it hurts. To think that you walked all the way from Lowbridge in the night!"

      "And on an empty stomach," shuddered Susan. "The wonder is he is alive to tell it. The days of miracles are not yet over and that you may tie to."

      "A spunky little lad," laughed Dad, who had come in with Shirley on his shoulder. He patted Walter's head and Walter caught his hand and hugged it. There was no one like Dad in the world. But nobody must ever know how scared he had really been.

      "I needn't ever go away from home again, need I, Mummy?"

      "Not till you want to," promised Mother.

      "I'll never," began Walter … and then stopped. After all, he wouldn't mind seeing Alice again.

      "Look you here, lamb," said Susan, ushering in a rosy young lady in a white apron and cap who carried a basket.

      Walter looked. A baby! A plump, roly-poly baby, with silky damp curls all over her head and such tiny cunning hands.

      "Is she not a beauty?" said Susan proudly. "Look at her eyelashes … never did I see such long eyelashes on a baby. And her pretty little ears. I always look at their ears first."

      Walter hesitated.

      "She's sweet, Susan … oh, look at her darling little curly toes! … but … isn't she rather small?"

      Susan laughed.

      "Eight pounds is not small, lamb. And she has begun to take notice already. That child was not an hour old when she raised her head and looked at the doctor. I have never seen the like of it in all my life."

      "She's going to have red hair," said the doctor in a tone of satisfaction. "Lovely red-gold hair like her mother's."

      "And hazel eyes like her father's," said the doctor's wife jubilantly.

      "I don't see why one of us can't have yellow hair," said Walter dreamily, thinking of Alice.

      "Yellow hair! Like the Drews!" said Susan in measureless contempt.

      "She looks so cunning when she is asleep," crooned the nurse. "I never saw a baby that crinkled its eyes like that when it went to sleep."

      "She is a miracle. All our babies were sweet, Gilbert, but she is the sweetest of them all."

      "Lord love you," said Aunt Mary Maria with a sniff, "there's been a few babies in the world before, you know, Annie."

      "Our baby has never been in the world before, Aunt Mary Maria," said Walter proudly. "Susan, may I kiss her … just once … please?"

      "That you may," said Susan, glaring after Aunt Mary Maria's retreating back. "And now I'm going down to make a cherry pie for dinner. Mary Maria Blythe made one yesterday afternoon. … I wish you could see it, Mrs. Dr. dear. It looks like something the cat dragged in. I shall eat as much of it myself as I can, rather than waste it, but such a pie shall never be set before the doctor as long as I have my health and strength and that you may tie to."

      "It isn't everybody that has your knack with pastry, you know," said Anne.

      "Mummy," said Walter, as the door closed behind a gratified Susan, "I think we are a very nice family, don't you?"

      A very nice family, Anne reflected happily as she lay in her bed, with the baby beside her. Soon she would be about with them again, light-footed as of yore, loving them, teaching them, comforting them. They would be coming to her with their little joys and sorrows, their budding hopes, their new fears, their little problems that seemed so big to them and their little heart-breaks that seemed so bitter. She would hold all the threads of the Ingleside life in her hands again to weave into a tapestry of beauty. And Aunt Mary Maria should have no cause to say, as Anne had heard her say two days ago, "You look dreadful tired, Gilbert. Does anybody ever look after you?"

      Downstairs Aunt Mary Maria was shaking her head despondently and saying, "All newborn infants' legs are crooked, I know, but, Susan, that child's legs are much too crooked. Of course we must not say so to poor Annie. Be sure you don't mention it to Annie, Susan."

      Susan, СКАЧАТЬ