"Why, I can see," he said, when he got out to help them in, "just how
William's got his idee about it. His wife's an excitable kind of a woman,
and she's sent him off lickety-split after the doctor without looking to
see what the matter was. There hain't never been anybody hurt at our depot,
and it don't stand to reason--"
"Oliver Bolton, _will_ you hush that noise?" shrieked his wife. "If
the world was burnin' up you'd say it was nothing but a chimbley on fire
som'er's."
"Well, well, Pauliny, have it your own way, have it your own way," said
Bolton. "I ain't sayin' but what there's _some_thin' in William's
story; but you'll see't he's exaggerated. Git up!"
"Well, do hurry, and _do_ be still!" said his wife.
"Yes, yes. It's all right, Pauliny; all right. Soon's I'm out the lane,
you'll see't I'll drive _fast_ enough."
Mrs. Bolton kept a grim silence, against which her husband's babble of
optimism played like heat-lightning on a night sky.
Idella woke with the rush of cold air, and in the dark and strangeness
began to cry, and wailed heart-breakingly between her fits of louder
sobbing, and then fell asleep again before they reached the house where
her father lay dying.
They had put him in the best bed in Mrs. Savor's little guest-room, and
when Annie entered, the minister was apologising to her for spoiling it.
"Now don't you say one word, Mr. Peck," she answered him. "It's all right.
I ruthah see you layin' there just's you be than plenty of folks that--"
She stopped for want of an apt comparison, and at sight of Annie she said,
as if he were a child whose mind was wandering: "Well, I declare, if here
ain't Miss Kilburn come to see you, Mr. Peck! And Mis' Bolton! Well, the
land!"
Mrs. Savor came and shook hands with them, and in her character of hostess
urged them forward from the door, where they had halted. "Want to see Mr.
Peck? Well, he's real comf'table now; ain't he, Dr. Morrell? We got him all
fixed up nicely, and he ain't in a bit o' pain. It's his spine that's hurt,
so't he don't feel nothin'; but he's just as clear in his mind as what you
or I be. _Ain't_ he, doctor?"
"He's not suffering," said Dr. Morrell, to whom Annie's eye wandered from
Mrs. Savor, and there was something in his manner that made her think the
minister was not badly hurt. She went forward with Mr. and Mrs. Bolton, and
after they had both taken the limp hand that lay outside the covering, she
touched it too. It returned no pressure, but his large, wan eyes looked at
her with such gentle dignity and intelligence that she began to frame in
her mind an excuse for what seemed almost an intrusion.