glad that the mirror over the mantel gave her a glimpse of shining hair and fresh white collar that made her old brown dress becoming, as she sat listening to his instructions about Joe. She was pensively pleased, ton, that she had grown pale, that there were circles under her eyes—circles that came from tears of real sorrow, from nights made sleepless by sorrow and love.
Nothing would keep her long from Joe's room. Even when he was asleep she sat beside him, dizzy for want of sleep herself. She must be there when he woke, when his eyes appealed to her for reassurance.
Late at night, alone in the kitchen heating Joe's milk and the water for his hot-water bag, the tears would run down her cheeks; she would shake with hiccuping sobs while she had little comforting drinks of hot milk and bites of Lizzie's gingersnaps. Oh, Joe, my darling, get well, please get well, she thought, filling the saucepan. All that good jelly, we'll never get it eaten! I'll give some to Miss Smith. No, I can't; she sent a bowlful. I never saw the moon so white and big; that misty look means more snow. Oh, I'm so tired. I must get something for Jodie's poor little hands; they're as chapped as chapped can be, from snow inside his mittens. What was it I wanted to ask Doctor Wells to-morrow? I believe he really enjoys coming here. I don't believe he's very happy. Of course Mrs. Wells is very nice, but not exactly sympathetic. Two o'clock! I guess everyone else in town
