Did _she_ feel sure John Travis would come? Ah, she would _not_ doubt. She would take the child’s sublime faith for her stay. Even if he had ceased to care for her, he would not disappoint the child who relied so confidently upon his word.
“It’ll be all right, then. An’ I’ll get up to-morrow an’ be dressed, an’ go down-stairs all strong an’ rested like. An’ I think he’ll know about Bess.”
“Ain’t the children jealous ’cause you stay here so much?” she asked presently. “They all like you so. An’ they was so glad to see you.”
“They do not mind,” she made answer to the unselfish child; “and I like to stay with you.”
“Do you? I’m glad too,” she said dreamily.
But now and then she was a little restless. The doctor merely looked at her and smiled. But outside he said to Miss Mary, “I doubt if she goes through another night.”
“What shall I do for you?” Virginia asked later on. There seemed such a wistfulness in the eyes turned to the window.
“It’s queer like, but seems to me as if Bess was comin’. P’raps she’s jes’ found out where I be. O Miss Deerin’, are there any wild roses? I’d like to have some for Bess.”
“I think if I had some Bess would come back. ’N’ I’m all hungry like to see her.”
Dil moved uneasily, and worked her fingers with a nervous motion.
“There have been some over back of the woods there,” and Miss Mary inclined her head. “There were in June, I remember.”
“The walk will do you good.” There had come a distraught look in Virginia’s face. Oh, what if John Travis failed! Even to-morrow might be too late.
“You’ll let the children go with you,” said Dil. “They’ll like it so; an’ I’ll keep still ’n’ try to go to sleep.”
The old serenity came back with the smile. She had learned so many lessons of patience and self-denial in the short life, the grand patience perfected through love and sacrifice, the earthly type of that greater love. But the sweet little face almost unnerved Virginia.
The children hailed her with delight, and clung so to her gown that she could hardly take a step. Perhaps it was their noise that had unconsciously worn upon Dil’s very slender nerves. Miss Mary read to her awhile, and in the soft, soothing silence she fell asleep.
Yes, she had come to that sign and seal indelibly stamped on the faces of the “called.” The dread something no word can fitly describe, and it was so much more apparent in her sleep.