"No; you haven't had your eyes shut."
"Oh, but I must have. Couldn't dream if I was wide awake. I
saw ma--just as plain as--" He recovered himself with a light
laugh--"Wouldn't it bust yer braces to 'ear me sayin' ma? But that's
what us childern used to call...."
Once more he turned in profile, lying still, silent, radiant, occupied.
The robin sang on. Tom looked at his watch. It was time for him to be
stealing away. Now that Honey was better, he didn't mind going without
a farewell, because he could explain himself next time. He was glancing
about for the nurse when Honey said, softly, casually, as if greeting
an acquaintance:
"Hello--ma!"
He lifted both hands, but they dropped back, heavily. Tom, who had half
risen, fell on his knees by the bedside, seizing the hand nearest him
in both his own.
"Honey! Honey! Speak to me!"
But Honey's good eye closed gently, while the head sagged a little to
one side. The robin was still singing.
* * * * *
Two letters received within a few days gave Tom the feeling of not
being quite left alone.
_Dear Mr. Whitelaw_
In telling you how deeply we feel for you in your great bereavement
I wish I could make you understand how sincerely we are all your
friends. I want to say this specially, as I know you have no family.
Family counts for much; but friends count for something too. It is
George Sand who says: "Our relations are the friends given us by
nature; our friends are the relations given us by God." Will you not
think of us in this way?--especially of Guy and me. Whenever you are
lonely I wish you would turn to us, in thought at least, when it
can't be in any other way. When it can be--our hearts will always be
open.
Very sincerely yours,
Hildred Ansley.
The other letter ran:
_Dear Tom_
Now that you have got this great big incubous off your hands I should
think you would try to do your duty by me and what you owe me. It
seems to me I've been patient long enough. It is not as if you were
the only peanut in the bag. There are others. I do not say this
purposely. It is rung from me. I have done all I mean to do here, and
will beat it whenever I get a good chance. I should think you would be
educated by now. I graduated from high school at sixteen, and I guess
I know as much as the next one. I've got a gentleman friend here, a
swell fellow too, a travelling salesman, and he makes big money, and
he says that if a fellow isn't hitting the world by fifteen he'll
always be a quitter. Think this over and let me know. With passionate
love.
Maisie.