An'--I don't want you to say nothin' about this to
her jus' yet--but I'm goin' to keep Granite to look after everythin' for
me. I don't ever mean to let Granite go again. Never. Not for one hour."
Jack smiled. He felt as if Fate was playing into his hands.
"I want you to live with me," Aunt Mary continued, "an' I want the house
big enough so's Clover an' Mitchell an' Burnett can come whenever they
feel like it and stay as long as they like. I don't want any house except
for us all together. Oh, my! Seems like I can't hardly wait!"
She leaned back and shut her eyes in a sort of impatient ecstasy of joys
been and to be.
Jack reached forward to get a cigarette from the box on the table at the
bedside.
"Do you smoke now, Aunt Mary?" he inquired, as he took a match.
"No, Granite does."
"Janice does!" he repeated, quickly knitting his brows.
"Yes, she does it for me--I'm so happy smellin' the smell. They made her a
little sick at first but she took camphor and now she don't mind. Not
much--not any."
Jack arose and walked about the room. The idea of his darling sickening
herself to provide smoke for Aunt Mary braced him afresh to the conflict.
"What do you do all day?" he asked, presently.
"Well, we do most everythin'. When Lucinda's out she does Lucinda for me
an' when Lucinda's in she does Joshua. It's about as amusin' as anythin'
you ever saw to see her do Lucinda. I never found Lucinda amusin', Lord
knows, but I like to see Granite do her.
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