Bah, used to boil up water over the wood fire and fill it for me, while Geoffrey cleaned his gun in front of the tent. Such lovely times we had out in the jungle, dear. Such lovely places …” The old voice died away into silence.
The girl took the hot-water bottles and went quickly downstairs to fill them. When she came back with them and put them in the bed around the old lady, her grandmother was lying with closed eyes; she seemed fairly comfortable, but the respiration was much worse. She was breathing in short gasps three or four times in succession; then would come a silence when for a long time she did not seem to breathe at all. It was fairly obvious to the girl that the end was coming. She wondered if she ought to go and fetch the doctor from his bed, and then she thought that there was nothing he could do; better for other and more vital patients that he should be allowed to rest. She sat down by the bedside in the chair to wait, holding her grandmother’s hand, filled with deep sadness at the close of life.
The old lady spoke suddenly from the bed. Jennifer missed thefirst words again; she may have been half asleep. She heard, “—on twenty-two thousand a year, better than we lived at Steep. Give her my very dearest love when you see her, Jenny. I’m so happy for you now. It was so sweet of her to send those lovely fruits. Be sure and tell her how much we enjoyed them.”
There was a long, long pause, and then she said, “So glad she sent the money for your fare. I’ve had so much, much more than you poor girls today.”
Jennifer was on her feet now; there was something here that had to be cleared up. She held her grandmother’s hand between her own young, warm ones. “What did you give me that money for, Granny? What do you want me to do with the four hundred pounds? Try and tell me.”
The old lips muttered, “Dear Jane. Such lovely fruits.”
The girl stood by the bedside, waiting. If she had understood the old lady at all she was making an incredible proposal, but, after all, the doctor was going.
She said, “Try and tell me what you want me to do with the four hundred pounds, Granny.”
There were a few faint, jumbled words that Jennifer missed, and then she heard, “—a little horse for you, everything that I had at your age.”
There was very little time left now. The girl said, “Granny! Did you give me the four hundred pounds because you want me to go to Australia to visit Aunt Jane? Is that what you’re trying to say? Is that what you’d like me to do with the money?”
There was a faint, unmistakable nod. Then the old eyes closed again, as if in sleep. The girl laid the hand carefully beneath the bedclothes and sat down again to wait. There was a terrific mess here that her father must help her to clear up.
At about two o’clock her grandmother spoke again for the last time. Jennifer, bending by the old lips, heard her say, “The dear Queen’s statue in Moulmein … white marble. So sweet of the Burmese …”
About an hour later the old lady died. Jennifer, standing by the bedside, could not say within a quarter of an hour when death occurred.
Three
J ENNIFER met her father at the front door of the house early the next afternoon. She had gone out into the wet, windy streets at about four in the morning to stand in a call-box in the Broadway to ring him up in Leicester; the telephone was by his bed and she got through to him without delay, and told him of the death. Then she had walked back to the house. She had expected to be troubled and reluctant to go back there, but in fact she found she was not worried in the least by the thought of her dead grandmother upstairs. She was calm and serious; she felt that she had done a good job and her grandmother was pleased with her; if she had still been alive the old lady would have wanted her to have a little meal and get some sleep. So she made herself a meal of tea and bread and jam in the kitchen of the silent house, turned on
The girl took the hot-water bottles and went quickly downstairs to fill them. When she came back with them and put them in the bed around the old lady, her grandmother was lying with closed eyes; she seemed fairly comfortable, but the respiration was much worse. She was breathing in short gasps three or four times in succession; then would come a silence when for a long time she did not seem to breathe at all. It was fairly obvious to the girl that the end was coming. She wondered if she ought to go and fetch the doctor from his bed, and then she thought that there was nothing he could do; better for other and more vital patients that he should be allowed to rest. She sat down by the bedside in the chair to wait, holding her grandmother’s hand, filled with deep sadness at the close of life.
The old lady spoke suddenly from the bed. Jennifer missed thefirst words again; she may have been half asleep. She heard, “—on twenty-two thousand a year, better than we lived at Steep. Give her my very dearest love when you see her, Jenny. I’m so happy for you now. It was so sweet of her to send those lovely fruits. Be sure and tell her how much we enjoyed them.”
There was a long, long pause, and then she said, “So glad she sent the money for your fare. I’ve had so much, much more than you poor girls today.”
Jennifer was on her feet now; there was something here that had to be cleared up. She held her grandmother’s hand between her own young, warm ones. “What did you give me that money for, Granny? What do you want me to do with the four hundred pounds? Try and tell me.”
The old lips muttered, “Dear Jane. Such lovely fruits.”
The girl stood by the bedside, waiting. If she had understood the old lady at all she was making an incredible proposal, but, after all, the doctor was going.
She said, “Try and tell me what you want me to do with the four hundred pounds, Granny.”
There were a few faint, jumbled words that Jennifer missed, and then she heard, “—a little horse for you, everything that I had at your age.”
There was very little time left now. The girl said, “Granny! Did you give me the four hundred pounds because you want me to go to Australia to visit Aunt Jane? Is that what you’re trying to say? Is that what you’d like me to do with the money?”
There was a faint, unmistakable nod. Then the old eyes closed again, as if in sleep. The girl laid the hand carefully beneath the bedclothes and sat down again to wait. There was a terrific mess here that her father must help her to clear up.
At about two o’clock her grandmother spoke again for the last time. Jennifer, bending by the old lips, heard her say, “The dear Queen’s statue in Moulmein … white marble. So sweet of the Burmese …”
About an hour later the old lady died. Jennifer, standing by the bedside, could not say within a quarter of an hour when death occurred.
Three
J ENNIFER met her father at the front door of the house early the next afternoon. She had gone out into the wet, windy streets at about four in the morning to stand in a call-box in the Broadway to ring him up in Leicester; the telephone was by his bed and she got through to him without delay, and told him of the death. Then she had walked back to the house. She had expected to be troubled and reluctant to go back there, but in fact she found she was not worried in the least by the thought of her dead grandmother upstairs. She was calm and serious; she felt that she had done a good job and her grandmother was pleased with her; if she had still been alive the old lady would have wanted her to have a little meal and get some sleep. So she made herself a meal of tea and bread and jam in the kitchen of the silent house, turned on
Similar Books
