“Nothing doing,” retorted Jim, moving a chair up toward Joe and Mabel and placing himself in it as though he intended remaining there indefinitely. “I don’t stir a step from this place until Mabel tells me all the news from home.”
“He means all the news about Clara,” laughed Joe, as Mabel obediently sat down beside him and turned her attention to Jim.
“Oh, Clara is all right,” said Mabel, but in spite of her cheerful words, the others saw that a cloud had darkened her face. “It is Mother Matson I am worrying about,” she added slowly.
Mrs. Matson, Joe’s mother, had lately been in poor health. Because of this fact, Mabel had stayed with her mother-in-law for a time after her marriage to Joe. But recently she had yielded to the urging of her own family to visit them in Goldsboro, North Carolina, her old home. Although Mabel had been busy renewing old friendships there, she had kept in almost daily touch with Mrs. Matson and Clara through the mails. As a matter of fact, Jim had more than once complained that Mabel heard a great deal more from his fiancée than he did himself. Owing to the constantly changing address of the team, Jim’s mail, as well as Joe’s, was often delayed.
Because of Mrs. Matson’s illness, Clara had postponed her marriage with Jim, hoping for her mother’s restoration to health. Until that happy time came, nothing remained to Jim but to possess his soul in patience, which was often very hard to do.
Now, at Mabel’s mention of his mother, Joe started forward, fixing his anxious gaze upon his wife.
“What has happened to mother?” he demanded. “Is she--nothing serious, is it?”
“Oh, no, no!” said Mabel, patting his hand soothingly. “There is nothing fatally wrong. She is--oh, I might as well tell you at once, Joe dear, for you would only worry the more if I tried to keep things from you. It is feared that Mother Matson must undergo an operation, a rather serious operation, I am afraid.”
“What for?” asked Joe, quietly, although his face had become suddenly white.
“Clara didn’t say in her letter,” returned Mabel, soberly. “Your family doctor, Doctor Reeves, is calling a consultation. Clara will undoubtedly write more fully after that is over.”
“A consultation!” cried Joe, leaping to his feet, only to slump down again in his chair at the pain in his injured leg. “Why, this is horrible, girl! Do you know when they expect to--do it?”