One afternoon, three weeks after the accident, Isobel looked at her small desk clock for the fourth time in fifteen minutes. A ceaseless patter of rain against the window made the day unusually trying. Her mother had gone, by the doctor's orders, to Atlantic City for a week's rest, leaving her to the capable ministrations of Mrs. Hicks. That lady had carried off her luncheon tray with the declaration that "a body couldn't please Miss Isobel anyways and if Miss Isobel wanted anything she could ring," and Isobel had mentally determined, making a little face after the departing figure, that she'd die before she asked old Hicks for anything! It was only half past two--it would be an hour before even Tibby would come, or Gyp or Jerry. What day was it?
When one spent every day in one small pink-and-white room it was not easy to remember! Thursday--no, Wednesday, because Mrs. Hicks had said the cook was out----
A door below opened and shut. Footsteps sounded from the hall; quick, bounding, they passed her door.
"Gyp!" Isobel called. There was no answer. Someone was moving in the nursery; it was Jerry, then, not Gyp.
"Jerry!" Still there was no answer. Jerry was too busy turning the contents of her bureau drawer to hear. She found the bathing-cap for which she was hunting and started down the hall. A sudden, pitiful, choky sob halted her flight.
When she peeped into Isobel's room Isobel was lying with her face buried in her pillow.
"Isobel----" Jerry advanced quickly to the side of the bed. "Is anything wrong? What is the matter?"
"So would you if you had to lie here day in and day out a--a helpless cripple and left all alone----"
Jerry looked around the quiet room. There was something very lonely about it--and that patter of the rain----
"Oh--_Hicks_. She's just a crosspatch! You all leave me to servants because I can't move. Nobody loves me the least little bit. I--I wish I were dead."
To Jerry there was something very dreadful in Isobel's words. What if her wish came true, then and there? What if the breath suddenly stopped--and it would be too late to take back the wish----
"Oh, _don't_ say that again, Isobel. Can't I stay with you?"
Isobel turned such a grateful face from her pillow that Jerry's heart was touched. Of course poor Isobel was lonely and she and Gyp _had_ selfishly neglected her. Even though Isobel did not care very much for her, she would doubtless be better company than--no one. She slipped the bathing-cap in her pocket and slowly drew off her coat and hat.