One day, when the Avonlea slopes were golden-hued with the
ripened harvest, Aunty Nan did not get up. She complained
of nothing but great weariness. Mrs. William remarked to her
husband that if SHE lay in bed every day she felt tired,
there wouldn't be much done at Gull Point Farm. But she prepared
an excellent breakfast and carried it patiently up to Aunty Nan,
who ate little of it.
After dinner Jordan crept up by way of the back stairs to see her.
Aunty Nan was lying with her eyes fixed on the pale pink climbing
roses that nodded about the window. When she saw Jordan she smiled.
"Them roses put me so much in mind of little Joscelyn,"
she said softly. "She loved them so. If I could only see her!
Oh, Jordan, if I could only see her! Maria says it's terrible
childish to be always harping on that string, and mebbe it is.
But--oh, Jordan, there's such a hunger in my heart for her,
such a hunger!"
Jordan felt a queer sensation in his throat, and twisted his
ragged straw hat about in his big hands. Just then a vague idea
which had hovered in his brain all day crystallized into decision.
But all he said was:
"I hope you'll feel better soon, Aunty Nan."
"Oh, yes, Jordan dear, I'll be better soon," said Aunty Nan with her own
sweet smile.
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