Love for Lucinda by Gayle Buck Page A

warmed it up proper for her. Miss says that she don’t mean to coddle herself and won’t go to bed earlier than her usual.”
    “Tibby, how can you be so nonsensical? Of course you should go to bed,” said Lucinda.
    “I shan’t coddle myself. It is a very bad habit in which to fall,” said Miss Blythe. Her stern declaration lost most of its effect when she dissolved into a fit of sneezing.
    “Well, I shall coddle you! Here, I shall help you into bed.” Lucinda took the cup from Miss Blythe’s hands and gave it to the maid.
    “But I do not believe in coddling one’s self,” protested Miss Blythe, sniffling.
    “Of course you do not. I am a great bully, however, and I insist that you get into bed. You will be much more comfortable,” said Lucinda. Ruthlessly, she threw the rug off Miss Blythe’s knees. She put her hand under Miss Blythe’s elbow and levered her up out of the chair. “Come along, Tibby. I will not be denied.”
    Miss Blythe gave a dry laugh. “Very well. I see that you are determined to coerce me.”
    With Lucinda’s arm firm about her shoulders, she allowed herself to be guided across the bedroom. She gratefully climbed into the waiting bed. The maid firmly tucked the coverlets over her. From the pillows, Miss Blythe said, “I shall be perfectly all right in the morning.”
    “So I should hope,” said Lucinda. “I shall inquire after you in the morning, Tibby. Good night.”
    Miss Blythe murmured a drowsy reply. The hot toddy had been liberally laced with rum, and it was already beginning to do its work.
    The following morning Lucinda asked about Miss Blythe. She was told that the lady was still abed. Concerned, Lucinda went at once to her companion’s room. She could not recall a single instance when her former governess had not risen with the dawn.
    Lucinda found Miss Blythe heavy-eyed and feverish. The lady was obviously suffering from a headache caused by a stuffy nose. “You must remain in bed and rest today, Tibby.”
    “But I must get up, Lucinda. What will you do without me to chaperone you when gentlemen callers come to visit? There are the errands that I wished to run, too.” Miss Blythe fretfully picked at her coverlet. “I wished to return the books that I had taken from the Lending Library and to buy a length of ribbon and some new embroidery yarns, too.”
    Sitting down on the side of the bed, Lucinda took hold of the older woman’s agitated hands. “Dear Tibby. It is all very easily answered. I shall manage very well, I promise you! I shall not receive anyone whom I know you will not approve. As for these errands, I can very well do them for you. Only, you must give me a sample of the color yarn that you require so that I may match it perfectly.”
    “It is not proper that you should discharge my paltry commissions,” said Miss Blythe, sniffling morosely.
    “I hope that I am not so high in the instep as that! Besides, it will do me a world of good to get out of this house for a while,” said Lucinda. “I will not have you stepping a foot out of doors until you are over this chill, or we will have you taking ill.”
    Miss Blythe agreed to the wisdom in that, but she still protested that Lucinda should not be bothered with her errands. “I do not wish you to put yourself out on my account.”
    “I have a few errands of my own, too, so I shall be going out in any event. Where have you put the books to be exchanged and the yarns?” asked Lucinda, smiling. As Miss Blythe began to form another objection, she threw up her hand. “Now give over, do, Tibby. I shall not take no for an answer.”
    Miss Blythe smiled at last. “Are you still playing the bully, my lady?”
    “I rather enjoy the role,” said Lucinda.
    A watery laugh was raised from Miss Blythe that ended in a coughing spell. She directed the maid to the books and the yarns, and when they had been given into Lucinda’s hands, she said hoarsely, “I do thank you, my dear. I am just sorry that you are