r, but not on every day of the
week, the jingle of a bit, the turning of wheels, rose to Mildred's
window, telling her that the doctor had arrived, and though she had a
grudge against all who saw her incapacitated, she found herself looking
forward to his visits. He did not smile too much, nor stay too long,
though it was remarkable that his leave-taking of her was not
immediately followed by the renewed jingling of the bit. She was sure
her condition did not call for prolonged discussion and, as she
remembered Miriam who was free to come and go unchecked, to laugh away a
man's wits, as her mother had done before her, Mildred Caniper grew hot
and restless: she felt that she must get up and resume control, yet she
knew that it would never be hers in full measure again, and while, in a
rare, false moment, she pretended that the protection of Zebedee was her
aim, truth stared at her with the reminder that the legacy of her old
envy of the mother was this desire to thwart the daughter.

After that, her thoughts were long and bitter, and their signs were on
her face when Helen returned.

"What have you been doing?" Helen demanded, for she no longer had any
awe of Mildred Caniper, a woman who had been helpless in her hands.

"Please don't be ridiculous, Helen."

"I'm not."

"This absurd air of authority--"

"But you look--"

"We won't discuss how I look. Where is Miriam?"

"I don't know. Yes, I do. She went to Brent Farm to get some cream.
Zeb--He says you're to have cream."

Mildred made a movement which was meant to express baffled patience. "I
have tried to persuade you not to use pronouns instead of proper names.
Can't you hear how vulgar it is?"

"Dr. Mackenzie wishes you to have cream," Helen said meekly.

"I do not need cream, and his visits are becoming quite unnecessary."

"So he said today."

"Oh."

"But I," Helen said, smiling to herself, "wish him to come."

"And no doubt the discussion of what primarily concerns me is what kept
Dr. Mackenzie so long this afternoon."

"How did you know he stayed?"

"My good Helen, though I am in bed, I am neither deaf nor an imbecile."

"Oh, I know," Helen said with a seriousness which might as well have
been mockery as stupidity. "I gave him--I gave Dr. Mackenzie tea. He
was driving further, and it's such a stormy day."

"Quite right. He looks overworked--ill. I don't suppose he is properly
cared for."

"He has a cough. He says he often gets one," Helen