Chapter 6 - Page 2

blood in her veins. It took from
her, too, all her faded virginal shyness; and with a brisk
composure she turned the handle of the clock-maker's door.

But as she entered her heart began to tremble, for she saw Mr.
Ramy, his face hidden in his hands, sitting behind the counter in
an attitude of strange dejection. At the click of the latch he
looked up slowly, fixing a lustreless stare on Ann Eliza. For a
moment she thought he did not know her.

"Oh, you're sick!" she exclaimed; and the sound of her voice
seemed to recall his wandering senses.

"Why, if it ain't Miss Bunner!" he said, in a low thick tone;
but he made no attempt to move, and she noticed that his face was
the colour of yellow ashes.

"You ARE sick," she persisted, emboldened by his
evident need of help. "Mr. Ramy, it was real unfriendly of you not
to let us know."

He continued to look at her with dull eyes. "I ain't been
sick," he said. "Leastways not very: only one of my old turns."
He spoke in a slow laboured way, as if he had difficulty in getting
his words together.

"Rheumatism?" she ventured, seeing how unwillingly he seemed
to move.

"Well--somethin' like, maybe. I couldn't hardly put a name to
it."

"If it WAS anything like rheumatism, my grandmother
used to make a tea--" Ann Eliza began: she had forgotten, in the
warmth of the moment, that she had only come as Evelina's
messenger.

At the mention of tea an expression of uncontrollable
repugnance passed over Mr. Ramy's face. "Oh, I guess I'm getting
on all right. I've just got a headache to-day."

Ann Eliza's courage dropped at the note of refusal in his
voice.

"I'm sorry," she said gently. "My sister and me'd have been
glad to do anything we could for you."

"Thank you kindly," said Mr. Ramy wearily; then, as she turned
to the door, he added with an effort: "Maybe I'll step round to-
morrow."

"We'll be real glad," Ann Eliza repeated. Her eyes were fixed
on a dusty bronze clock in the window. She was unaware of looking
at it at the time, but long afterward she remembered that it
represented a Newfoundland dog with his paw on an open book.

When she reached home there was a purchaser in the shop,
turning over hooks and eyes under Evelina's absent-minded
supervision. Ann Eliza passed hastily into the back room, but in
an instant she heard her sister at her side.

"Quick! I told her I was goin' to look for some smaller
hooks--how is he?" Evelina gasped.

"He ain't been very well," said Ann Eliza slowly, her eyes on
Evelina's eager face; "but he says he'll be sure to be round to-
morrow night."

"He will? Are you telling me the truth?"

"Why,