Anne of Ingleside - L. M. Montgomery [25]
‘Walter Blythe!’
In two steps Susan had him in her arms… her strong, tender arms.
‘Susan… is Mother dead?’ said Walter.
In a very brief time everything had changed. Walter was in bed, warm, fed, comforted. Susan had whisked on a fire, got him a hot cup of milk, a slice of golden-brown toast, and a big plateful of his favourite ‘monkey face’ cookies, and then tucked him away with a hot-water bottle at his feet. She had kissed and anointed his little bruised knee. It was such a nice feeling to know that someone was looking after you… that someone wanted you… that you were important to someone.
‘And you’re sure, Susan, that Mother isn’t dead?’
‘Your mother is sound asleep and well and happy, my lamb.’
‘And wasn’t she sick at all? Opal said…’
‘Well, lamb, she didn’t feel very well for a while yesterday, but that’s all over, and she was never in any danger of dying this time. You just wait till you’ve had a sleep and you’ll see her… and something else. If I had hold of those young Satans at Lowbridge! I just can’t believe that you walked all the way home from Low-bridge. Six miles! On such a night!’
‘I suffered awful agony of mind, Susan,’ said Walter gravely. But it was all over; he was safe and happy; he was… home… he was…
He was asleep.
It was nearly midday before he woke, to see sunshine billowing in through his own windows, and limped in to see Mother. He had begun to think he had been very foolish and maybe Mother would not be pleased with him for running away from Lowbridge. But Mother only put an arm around him and drew him close to her. She had heard the whole story from Susan and had thought of a few things she intended to say to Jen Parker.
‘Oh, Mummy, you’re not going to die… and you still love me, don’t you?’
‘Darling, I’ve no notion of dying, and I love you so much it hurts. To think that you walked all the way from Lowbridge in the night!’
‘And on an empty stomach,’ shuddered Susan. ‘The wonder is he’s alive to tell it. The days of miracles are not yet over and that you may tie to.’
‘A spunky little lad,’ laughed Dad, who had come in with Shirley on his shoulder. He patted Walter’s head and Walter caught his hand and hugged it. There was no one like Dad in the world. But nobody must ever know how scared he had really been.
‘I needn’t ever go away from home again, need I, Mummy?’
‘Not till you want to,’ promised Mother.
‘I’ll never…’ began Walter… and then stopped. After all, he wouldn’t mind seeing Alice again.
‘Look you here, lamb,’ said Susan, ushering in a rosy young lady in a white apron and cap who carried a basket.
Walter looked. A baby! A plump, roly-poly baby, with silky damp curls all over her head and such tiny, cunning hands.
‘Is she not a beauty?’ said Susan proudly. ‘Look at her eyelashes… never did I see such long eyelashes on a baby. And her pretty little ears. I always look at their ears first.’
Walter hesitated.
‘She’s sweet, Susan… oh, look at her darling little curly toes! But… isn’t she rather small?’
Susan laughed.
‘Eight pounds isn’t small, lamb. And she has begun to take notice already. That child wasn’t an hour old when she raised her head and looked at the doctor. I have never seen the like of it in all my life.’
‘She’s going to have red hair,’ said the doctor in a tone of satisfaction. ‘Lovely red-gold hair like her mother’s.’
‘And hazel eyes like her father’s,’ said the doctor’s wife jubilantly.
‘I don’t see why one of us can’t have yellow hair,’ said Walter dreamily, thinking of Alice.
‘Yellow hair! Like the Drews!’ said Susan in measureless contempt.
‘She looks so cunning when she is asleep,’ crooned the nurse. ‘I never saw a baby that crinkled its eyes like that when it went to sleep.’
‘She is a miracle. All our babies were sweet, Gilbert, but she is the sweetest of them all.’
‘Lord love you,’ said Aunt Mary Maria with a sniff, ‘there’s been a few