"It has a few pages torn out," said she; "but it will hold quite a lot of numbers, and when it's full I'll give you another.I'm so glad you like the railway.Only, please, you mustn't walk on the line.""Not if we face the way the train's coming?" asked Peter, after a gloomy pause, in which glances of despair were exchanged.
"No--really not," said Mother.
Then Phyllis said, "Mother, didn't YOU ever walk on the railway lines when you were little?"Mother was an honest and honourable Mother, so she had to say, "Yes.""Well, then," said Phyllis.
"But, darlings, you don't know how fond I am of you.What should Ido if you got hurt?"
"Are you fonder of us than Granny was of you when you were little?"Phyllis asked.Bobbie made signs to her to stop, but Phyllis never did see signs, no matter how plain they might be.
Mother did not answer for a minute.She got up to put more water in the teapot.
"No one," she said at last, "ever loved anyone more than my mother loved me."Then she was quiet again, and Bobbie kicked Phyllis hard under the table, because Bobbie understood a little bit the thoughts that were making Mother so quiet--the thoughts of the time when Mother was a little girl and was all the world to HER mother.It seems so easy and natural to run to Mother when one is in trouble.Bobbie understood a little how people do not leave off running to their mothers when they are in trouble even when they are grown up, and she thought she knew a little what it must be to be sad, and have no mother to run to any more.
So she kicked Phyllis, who said:--
"What are you kicking me like that for, Bob?"And then Mother laughed a little and sighed and said:--"Very well, then.Only let me be sure you do know which way the trains come--and don't walk on the line near the tunnel or near corners.""Trains keep to the left like carriages," said Peter, "so if we keep to the right, we're bound to see them coming.""Very well," said Mother, and I dare say you think that she ought not to have said it.But she remembered about when she was a little girl herself, and she did say it--and neither her own children nor you nor any other children in the world could ever understand exactly what it cost her to do it.Only some few of you, like Bobbie, may understand a very little bit.
It was the very next day that Mother had to stay in bed because her head ached so.Her hands were burning hot, and she would not eat anything, and her throat was very sore.
"If I was you, Mum," said Mrs.Viney, "I should take and send for the doctor.There's a lot of catchy complaints a-going about just now.My sister's eldest--she took a chill and it went to her inside, two years ago come Christmas, and she's never been the same gell since."Mother wouldn't at first, but in the evening she felt so much worse that Peter was sent to the house in the village that had three laburnum trees by the gate, and on the gate a brass plate with W.W.
Forrest, M.D., on it.
W.W.Forrest, M.D., came at once.He talked to Peter on the way back.He seemed a most charming and sensible man, interested in railways, and rabbits, and really important things.
When he had seen Mother, he said it was influenza.
"Now, Lady Grave-airs," he said in the hall to Bobbie, "I suppose you'll want to be head-nurse.""Of course," said she.
"Well, then, I'll send down some medicine.Keep up a good fire.
Have some strong beef tea made ready to give her as soon as the fever goes down.She can have grapes now, and beef essence--and soda-water and milk, and you'd better get in a bottle of brandy.
The best brandy.Cheap brandy is worse than poison."She asked him to write it all down, and he did.
When Bobbie showed Mother the list he had written, Mother laughed.
It WAS a laugh, Bobbie decided, though it was rather odd and feeble.
"Nonsense," said Mother, laying in bed with eyes as bright as beads.
"I can't afford all that rubbish.Tell Mrs.Viney to boil two pounds of scrag-end of the neck for your dinners to-morrow, and Ican have some of the broth.Yes, I should like some more water now, love.And will you get a basin and sponge my hands?"Roberta obeyed.When she had done everything she could to make Mother less uncomfortable, she went down to the others.Her cheeks were very red, her lips set tight, and her eyes almost as bright as Mother's.
She told them what the Doctor had said, and what Mother had said.
"And now," said she, when she had told all, "there's no one but us to do anything, and we've got to do it.I've got the shilling for the mutton.""We can do without the beastly mutton," said Peter; "bread and butter will support life.People have lived on less on desert islands many a time.""Of course," said his sister.And Mrs.Viney was sent to the village to get as much brandy and soda-water and beef tea as she could buy for a shilling.
"But even if we never have anything to eat at all," said Phyllis, "you can't get all those other things with our dinner money.""No," said Bobbie, frowning, "we must find out some other way.Now THINK, everybody, just as hard as ever you can."They did think.And presently they talked.And later, when Bobbie had gone up to sit with Mother in case she wanted anything, the other two were very busy with scissors and a white sheet, and a paint brush, and the pot of Brunswick black that Mrs.Viney used for grates and fenders.They did not manage to do what they wished, exactly, with the first sheet, so they took another out of the linen cupboard.It did not occur to them that they were spoiling good sheets which cost good money.They only knew that they were making a good--but what they were making comes later.
Bobbie's bed had been moved into Mother's room, and several times in the night she got up to mend the fire, and to give her mother milk and soda-water.Mother talked to herself a good deal, but it did not seem to mean anything.And once she woke up suddenly and called out: "Mamma, mamma!" and Bobbie knew she was calling for Granny, and that she had forgotten that it was no use calling, because Granny was dead.
