At last I inquired, still vaguely, "How long?"
Grandma understood. She smiled reassuringly.
"Only a little while, teacher," she said. "You've only been sick a little
while--a few days, maybe," and she immediately proffered me some broth
which was a triumph of the good soul's art, and seemed to partake of her
own comfortable and sustaining nature. I lay back on the pillows,
contented to be very still for a little while.
When I next looked up and recognized that familiar figure sitting by the
bed, I said, "Has Becky come back?"
"Yis, Becky's come back!" said Grandma, in a tone which seemed to imply,
in the very best faith, that during my illness the world had been running
on excellently well. "You take some more broth now, teacher, and keep
r'al slow-minded and easy, and hev' a good night's rest, and to-morrer
I'll tell ye all about it!"
But I persisted; so Grandma continued gently:--
"Wall, it wa'n't much to tell, only the doctor said ye wasn't to be
talked to much, nor worked up; but I reckon a little pleasant news ain't
a gonter hurt nobody. Ye see, when you was took sick, George Olver, he
got a hold of where Becky was; he had a mistrustin' of it, somehow--and
he went and told her, and it brought her, hearin' you was dangerous, and
she calculated she might be o' use to ye now, for _some_, they _be_ sich
friends!" said Grandma, making this observation with the most guileless
enthusiasm.
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