IT was the next Saturday before Glenn went again to see Esther. Mr.
Campbell entertained him on the verandah. He sat some time, expecting
every minute to see Esther come bounding out. Her grandfather looked so
worn when he came that Glenn felt it a sort of imposition to allow him
to talk long. Although their topic was of deep interest, his shriveled
features seemed to smooth out as Glenn told him how rapidly Esther had
advanced that summer.
“It is remarkable,” he said, “how she can take a piece and master it
by herself. What she most needs is encouragement; some one to keep her
interested and stimulated.”
“I had hoped to let her have lessons under the professor at the
University this year. It had been my calculation a long time until she
was taken sick with fever.” The haggard look came back to his face.
“The doctor fears it will go into typhoid.”
“You don’t mean that Esther is sick now?” Glenn stammered.
“She took to her bed the same evening she came back from the falls and
hasn’t been up since.”
“I didn’t know a word of it. I should have been over if I had known. I
should have come at once to see if I could do anything to help either
of you.”
Glenn’s steady mouth trembled. A tumult of memories crowded upon him.
He thought of the Indian Well, where their lives first came together.
Suppose she had breathed in the germs that day when she tried to
protect him.
“Let me stay and help you nurse her, Mr. Campbell, you look tired and
need rest. I am so strong and I have no ties to call me away.”
“You are very kind;” the rest was left unspoken, for a hand was laid
on his arm. Mr. Campbell made his expression excuse his absence as he
turned and followed the negro girl.
Presently when he came back Glenn got up hastily.
“Is she worse?”
“No, she wanted to know if it was not your voice that she heard.”
“May I see her, if it is not asking too much?”
His face was full of sorrow as the old man bowed and led the way. “She
wanted to see you.”
Esther’s eyes were closed; her head lay deep in the pillow, the waves
of her hair flowing back from the whiteness of her face. “Esther,”
he whispered very softly. She opened her eyes and her lips broke in
a smile. He held out both hands toward her and caught hers in their
double grasp, looking down in her face.
“How are you? I didn’t know until this minute that you were not well.
I came to take you to the one place we’ve never been,” he told her.
“I thought maybe you had come to help me over the rock.” She smiled
faintly.
“Well, be very quiet; don’t worry about anything; we’ll do all that
for you. You know you promised to play the piece you learned last week
for me. Let’s see, it was to be at the spring; that was as close as we
dared venture to Indian Well, where we met.”
“Don’t give me out.” Her voice was weak and low. “I expect to do that
for your farewell; you must get back to college in time.”
“How do you know but that I had rather be detained; don’t run any
risk.” This seemed to please her.
“Is this better than the other life--the life among your friends?”
“This is sweeter, for I am looking forward to a lifetime with the
world.” She smiled and turned her head to rest it from the one position
she had kept too long.
“It will be a year before the world can get you; I am glad you have
decided to take another degree, although you seem to know enough
already.”
“I know enough to realize just how little I do know, but the special
course along lines that I am going to make my lifework is all that I
shall try to master yet. Everything has its turns; I’ll learn it all in
time, I hope.”
“And then you’ll be great.”
“More likely dead.”
“Most great people are.” Her lips suddenly quivered.
“You take it slow. I couldn’t bear to think of your dying.”
“You are talking too much now. You and your grandpa take a rest. You
both need it.”
“He must be tired after five nights and days, but you are company. We
can’t both leave you at once.”
“I’ll play host now; go to sleep. I’ll be with you all the time.”
“Grandpa, lie down over there on the lounge.”
When he had humored her she cuddled down contentedly and went to sleep.
With a ministering tenderness, Glenn kept watch over her.
Typhoid fever was full of terrors to him. He hoped that her fever was
only due to the cold she had taken at the falls.
It was very penetrating. He had ached a little afterward and thought it
was from being saturated with the dampness that day. Suppose the fear
in her case was true. All that beautiful hair would have to be shaved
off. He jealously resented this, caressing her hair as he looked at it.
The doctor came later and said her condition was better and that she
would be out in a few days.
Glenn drew a breath of relief. He would stay during those few days.