hideous dress, and John Douglas sat without smiling.
At the tea table Mrs. Douglas gracefully asked Janet to pour the tea. Janet
turned redder than ever but did it. Anne wrote a description of that meal to
Stella.
“We had cold tongue and chicken and strawberry preserves, lemon pie and
tarts and chocolate cake and raisin cookies and pound cake and fruit cake—and a
few other things, including more pie—caramel pie, I think it was. After I had
eaten twice as much as was good for me, Mrs. Douglas sighed and said she
feared she had nothing to tempt my appetite.
“‘I’m afraid dear Janet’s cooking has spoiled you for any other,’ she said
sweetly. ‘Of course nobody in Valley Road aspires to rival HER. WON’T you
have another piece of pie, Miss Shirley? You haven’t eaten ANYTHING.’
“Stella, I had eaten a helping of tongue and one of chicken, three biscuits, a
generous allowance of preserves, a piece of pie, a tart, and a square of chocolate
cake!”
After tea Mrs. Douglas smiled benevolently and told John to take “dear Janet”
out into the garden and get her some roses. “Miss Shirley will keep me company
while you are out—won’t you?” she said plaintively. She settled down in her
armchair with a sigh.
“I am a very frail old woman, Miss Shirley. For over twenty years I’ve been a
great sufferer. For twenty long, weary years I’ve been dying by inches.”
“How painful!” said Anne, trying to be sympathetic and succeeding only in
feeling idiotic.
“There have been scores of nights when they’ve thought I could never live to
see the dawn,” went on Mrs. Douglas solemnly. “Nobody knows what I’ve gone
through—nobody can know but myself. Well, it can’t last very much longer
now. My weary pilgrimage will soon be over, Miss Shirley. It is a great comfort
to me that John will have such a good wife to look after him when his mother is
gone—a great comfort, Miss Shirley.”
“Janet is a lovely woman,” said Anne warmly.
“Lovely! A beautiful character,” assented Mrs. Douglas. “And a perfect
housekeeper—something I never was. My health would not permit it, Miss
Shirley. I am indeed thankful that John has made such a wise choice. I hope and
believe that he will be happy. He is my only son, Miss Shirley, and his happiness
lies very near my heart.”
“Of course,” said Anne stupidly. For the first time in her life she was stupid.