A change came over Hester's face.
"My little Reg," she said, holding out her bandaged hands.
Regie ran to her, and put his arms round her neck. They clasped each
other tightly. The doctor winced to watch her hands.
"It's all right, Auntie Hester," said Regie. "I love you just the same,
and you must not cry any more."
For Hester's tears were falling at last, quenching the wild fire in her
eyes.
"My little treasure, my little mouse," she said, over and over again,
kissing his face and hands and little brown overcoat.
Then all in a moment her face altered. Her agonized eyes turned to the
doctor.
In an instant Dr. Brown's hand was over Regie's eyes, and he hurried him
out of the room.
"Take him out of hearing," he whispered to the Bishop, and darted back.
Hester was tearing the bandages off her hands.
"I don't know what has happened," she wailed, "but my hands hurt me so
that I can't bear it."
"Thank God!" said the old doctor, blowing his nose.
CHAPTER XLIII
The Devil has no stancher ally than _want of perception_.--PHILIP
H. WICKSTEED.
It takes two to speak truth--one to speak and another to
hear.--THOREAU.
Mrs. Gresley had passed an uncomfortable day. In the afternoon all the
Pratts had called, and Mr.
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