Annie Kilburn - Page 177/183

When people learned, as they could hardly help doing from Mrs. Savor's

volubility, what his plan with regard to Idella had been, they instanced

that in proof of the injuriousness of his idealism as applied to real

life; and they held that she had been remanded in that strange way to Miss

Kilburn's charge for some purpose which she must not attempt to cross. As

the minister had been thwarted in another intent by death, it was a sign

that he was wrong in this too, and that she could do better by the child

than he had proposed.

This was the sum of popular opinion; and it was further the opinion of Mrs.

Gerrish, who gave more attention to the case than many others, that Annie

had first taken the child because she hoped to get Mr. Peck, when she found

she could not get Dr. Morrell; and that she would have been very glad to be

rid of it if she had known how, but that she would have to keep it now for

shame's sake.

For shame's sake certainly, Annie would have done several other things, and

chief of these would have been never to see Dr. Morrell again. She believed

that he not only knew the folly she had confessed to him, but that he had

divined the cowardice and meanness in which she had repented it, and she

felt intolerably disgraced before the thought of him. She had imagined

mainly because of him that escape to Rome which never has yet been

effected, though it might have been attempted if Idella had not wakened

ill from the sleep she sobbed herself into when she found herself safe in

Annie's crib again.

She had taken a heavy cold, and she moped lifelessly about during the day,

and drowsed early again in the troubled cough-broken slumber.

"That child ought to have the doctor," said Mrs. Bolton, with the grim

impartiality in which she masked her interference.

"Well," said Annie helplessly.

At the end of the lung fever which followed, "It was a narrow chance," said

the doctor one morning; "but now I needn't come any more unless you send

for me."

Annie stood at the door, where he spoke with his hand on the dash-board of

his buggy before getting into it.

She answered with one of those impulses that come from something deeper

than intention. "I will send for you, then--to tell you how generous you

are," and in the look with which she spoke she uttered the full meaning

that her words withheld.

He flushed for pleasure of conscious desert, but he had to laugh and turn

it off lightly. "I don't think I could come for that. But I'll look in to

see Idella unprofessionally."