“My dear, I have written to Mr. Travis. I think he will be up then.”
“Oh!” Such a joyful light illumined the face, that Virginia had much ado to keep the tears from her own eyes. “You’re so good,” she said softly. “Everybody’s so good.”
“Oh, no; I like it. I c’n jest shut my eyes ’n’ see ‘Ring around a rosy.’ Oh,” with a long, long sigh, “Bess would ’a’ liked it so! I’m so sorry she couldn’t come ’n’ see it all, the beautiful flowers ’n’ trees ’n’ the soft grass you c’n tumble on ’n’ turn summersets as they did yest’day. Don’t you s’pose, Miss Deerin’, there’ll be a whole heaven for the children by themselves? For _he_ told me somethin’ ’bout ’many mansions’ the Lord Jesus went to fix for thim all. Ain’t it queer how things come to you?”
She lay there quietly all the morning, little Dilsey Quinn, trying in her hopeful fashion to hurry and get well. It was nicer than the hospital, and Miss Deering was so sweet, as she sat there crocheting some lovely rose-wheels out of pale-blue silk. Now and then some sentences flashed between them, and a soft little laugh from Dil. Miss Deering felt more like crying.
“I’m most well,” said Dil, with her unabated cheerfulness. “Only when I raise up somethin’ seems tied tight around me here,” putting her hand to her side. “’N’ you think I c’n be well on Sat’day, cause—some one might come—”
“Miss Deerin’ knows. An’ he’s one of the sure kind. Yes; he’ll surely come. An’ if I stay in bed all day to-day, don’t you s’pose I’ll be well to-morrow?”
“We’ll see. You and Miss Deering seem to be planning secrets. I shall have to look sharp after both of you. And who brings you flowers?”
“Miss Mary. An’ some custard, an’ oh, Miss Deerin’ fed me like as if I was a baby.”
“That’s all right. It’s high time you were waited on a little. But I’d like you to take a nap. Miss Deering, couldn’t you read her to sleep?”
“She ought to sleep some,” studying the wide eyes.
“But I’m not a bit sleepy. I’m thinkin’ ’bout when _he_ comes, an’ how he’ll help me find Bess.”
“It is astonishing,” the doctor said down-stairs. “She has some wonderful vitality. It seemed this morning as if she couldn’t last an hour, and now if she wasn’t all worn out she might recover. But it is the last flash of the expiring fire. Is there some friend to come?”