There's a lot of it around again, like last year. It takes the young
and the hardy. It won't get me. No.
"There's nothing to do for it," she added, "nothing, that is, beyond
nursing."
"If it wasn't for Mrs. Wicket," said Mrs. Tomkins, "I expect she'd have
been dead before this. Mrs. Wicket's a capable woman in things like
that. Capabler than Miss Beal. There was no one else ever made me so
comfortable. I have to say that about her; Mrs. Grumble's getting the
best of care. And I'm looking after Juliet. Not that she's any
trouble; she's as quiet as a mouse, playing all day long with her
dolls."
But Mrs. Ploughman could not find it in her heart to forgive Mrs.
Wicket for having been the cause of her grandson Noel's death. "Yes,"
she said, "I expect Mrs. Grumble's getting good care. But when a
body's dying, 'tisn't so much care you want, as salvation. I wouldn't
want any Jezebel hanging over my deathbed, Mrs. Tomkins, thank you."
Mrs. Tomkins, who attended each Sunday the little Baptist church at
Adams' Forge, did not believe that she and Mrs.
Pages:
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117