Page:The Keeper of the Bees.pdf/448



AMIE stood in Margaret Cameron’s back door and called cheerfully: “Oh, neighbour, where have you been for the past fifty years?”

Margaret Cameron stepped to the living-room door and braced herself with a hand on each side of the casing, and Jamie was shocked to the depths. He found himself crossing the room in a sweep and catching her in his arms.

“Oh,Margaret!” he cried. “Margaret!”

He held her from him and looked at her, and her face was the face of a stricken woman. She was there. She seemed all right herself. There was only one thing to think.

“Lolly?” he questioned. “What happened to your girl?”

Margaret Cameron opened her mouth but no words came. Jamie helped her to a chair and rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water. Then he knelt on one knee beside her and took both her hands and stared at her with questioning eyes.

“Tell me, friend of mine,” he urged. “Tell me what I can do for you. Where can I go? Whom can I get?”

Slowly the woman shook her head, and at last her voice