And then, as Judy watched,
breathless with wonder, the proud old gentlewoman, bending closer over
that still form on the bed, touched her lips--soft as a rose-petal--to
the stranger's brow.
When she arose and saw Judy standing there, Auntie Sue's delicate old
cheeks flushed with color, and her eyes were shining. With a gesture,
she commanded the girl to silence, and the two tiptoed from the room.
When they were outside, and Auntie Sue had cautiously closed the door,
she faced the speechless Judy with a deliciously defiant air that could
not wholly hide her lovely confusion.
"I--I--was thinking, Judy, how he--how he--might have been--my son."
"Your 'son'!" ejaculated the girl. "Why, ma'm, you-all ain't never even
been married, as I've ever hearn tell, have you?"
Auntie Sue drew her thin shoulders proudly erect, and, lifting her fine
old face, answered the challenging question with splendid spirit: "No, I
have never been married; but I might have been; and if I had, I suppose
I could have had a son, couldn't I?"
The vanquished Judy retreated to the kitchen, where, in safety, she sank
into a chair, convulsed with laughter, which she instinctively muffled
in her apron.
Then came the day when the man, weak and worn with his struggle, looked
up at his gentle old nurse with the light of sanity in his deep
blue eyes.
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