Read Online Evidence of Things Seen by Elizabeth Daly - Free Book Online Page B

over.” Clara went on, rather quickly: “I was thinking—oughtn’t we to notify the Grobys?”
    â€œOh dear,” said Fanny. “Won’t tomorrow do?”
    â€œNot much love lost there,” said Knapp, “but it might be just as well to give them a ring. I wouldn’t want Walt Groby to think he had anything on me. ”
    â€œPerhaps they’ll insist on moving her,” said Clara.
    This time Knapp allowed her to hold his gaze. He said at last: “She lived on in this cottage a month after her sister died, Mrs. Gamadge; don’t you worry about Alvira, she’s just like all the rest of the country folks—hates to be sick out of her own home.”
    Fanny said, rather uncomfortably, “I think Clara thinks the cottage might have unpleasant associations for Miss Radford.”
    â€œNow my dear,” expostulated Hunter; and Knapp, somewhat crossly, remarked: “Stuff. She lived here a month afterwards. Well, I’d better be moving.”
    â€œI’ll go along on foot,” said Hunter. “Tow the old horse down, and help you rout out the hired man. Then I’ll come back and get the car and drive in for the medicine.”
    Knapp drove slowly down the dark road, Hunter leading old Bill ten paces to the rear. Clara and Fanny washed dishes, while Maggie kept her watch at the bedside. It had already been settled that she, at least, should get to bed promptly at ten o’clock. She had her work to do in the morning.
    After a time Hunter was heard starting his car, and Clara told Fanny Hunter that she felt like crying. “You’re just angels, Fanny, that’s all.”
    â€œDarling, we love helping you. It was an awful upset.”
    â€œI’ll get the Herons’ room ready for you and Mr. Hunter.”
    â€œIf you go on calling him that he says he’ll feel too old to sit up and take care of Miss Radford.”
    â€œI do think she hates being here, Fanny.”
    â€œAnd Dr. Knapp knows it! But what can we do? As he says, she probably won’t even be conscious before morning.”
    Hunter returned, and delivered his package to Clara. “There you are,” he said. “One of each if she wakes up. Come on out on the porch.” Under stress, Clara was amused to note, his little affectations of speech and manner departed; he was efficient, cool and practical.
    When they were all sitting on the bench and smoking, he outlined his plan for the night:
    â€œNow I know you two well enough to know that you won’t let me do what I want—put a comfortable chair outside Alvira’s door, have a good lamp, and spend the next eight hours contentedly reading, perhaps working. It’s nothing to me; I like the small hours.”
    â€œSit up from ten o’clock to six in the morning? I never heard anything so frightful,” exclaimed Clara. “It’s my cottage, and Miss Radford’s my landlady. I won’t have it.”
    â€œWhat is your suggestion?”
    Clara had been thinking. “We might all play cards very quietly until twelve, and then you could sit up till dawn, and I’d take over after that.”
    â€œCertainly not. I demand the graveyard stretch, and I don’t in the least recommend sitting up and playing cards until twelve. We must all get some sleep. Fanny can sit up till twelve—with the lamp and the chair and the book, you know; you can sit up till two, and I will be responsible for the rest of the night. I’ll call Maggie in the morning.”
    Fanny said: “I don’t care how long I sit up, but you must sleep in the other little downstairs room.”
    â€œI had no intention of sleeping anywhere else.”
    Clara again felt like crying—this time from relief. She said: “I should have died without you and Fanny; just died!”
    â€œAfter all,” continued Fanny plaintively, “it isn’t as if Miss Radford were an ordinary patient;