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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:56 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:56 -0700 |
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diff --git a/14211-h/14211-h.htm b/14211-h/14211-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..43ed8e2 --- /dev/null +++ b/14211-h/14211-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3470 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Wanted—A Match Maker, by Paul Leicester Ford</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +p.caption {font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14211 ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:55%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<h1>Wanted — A Matchmaker</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Paul Leicester Ford</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus01"></a> +<img src="images/image1.jpg" width="320" height="447" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“‘Why, Swot,’ cried Constance, +‘nobody is going to kill you’”</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center"> +To<br /> +Bond and Edith Thomas<br /> +as a Record of Our Friendship +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>Illustrations</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus01">“‘Why, Swot,’ cried Constance,’ nobody is going to kill you’”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus02">“Miss Durant sprang out and lifted the head gently”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus03">“Constance took the seat at the bedside”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus04">“‘I have come here—I have intruded on you, Miss Durant,’ hurriedly began the doctor”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#illus05">“The two were quickly seated on the floor”</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>Wanted: A Match-Maker</h2> + +<p> +“You understand, Josie, that I wouldn’t for a moment wish Constance +to marry without being in love, but—” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Durant hesitated long enough to convey the inference that she was +unfeminine enough to place a value on her own words, and then, the pause having +led to a change, or, at least, modification of what had almost found utterance, +she continued, with a touch of petulance which suggested that the general +principle had in the mind of the speaker a special application, “It is +certainly a great pity that the modern girl should be so +unimpressionable!” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand and sympathise with you perfectly, dear,” consolingly +acceded Mrs. Ferguson. “And Constance has such advantages!” +</p> + +<p> +Quite unnoting that her friend replied to her thought rather than to her words, +Mrs. Durant responded at once eagerly, yet defensively: “That is it. No +one will deny that Muriel is quite Constance’s equal in mind, and, though +perhaps I am not the one to say it, Doris surely excels her in looks. +Don’t you think so, darling?” she added. +</p> + +<p> +“Unquestionably,” agreed the friend, with much the quality of firm +promptness with which one would bolt a nauseous pill, or extrude an ailing +oyster. +</p> + +<p> +“Yet merely because Constance has been out so much longer, and therefore +is much more experienced, she self—she monopolises the attentions of the +men; you know she does, Josie.” +</p> + +<p> +“Absolutely,” once more concurred Mrs. Ferguson; and this time, +though she spoke less quickly, her tone carried greater conviction. “They +are—well—she—she undoubtedly—that is, she +contrives—somehow—to eclipse, or at least overshadow them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. I don’t like to think that she manages—but whether +she does or not, the results are as bad as if she did; and +thoughtlessness—if it is only that, which I can’t believe—is +quite as blamable as—as more intentional scheming.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then of course,” said Mrs. Ferguson, “every one knows about +her mother’s fortune—and men are so mercenary in these days.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Josie, I don’t like to speak of that myself, but it is such a +relief to have you say it. That is the whole trouble. What sort of a chance +have my poor dears, who will inherit so little compared to her wealth, and that +not till—till we are through with it—against Constance? I call it +really shameful of her to keep on standing in their light!” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you—Couldn’t you let her see—drop a hint—of +the unconscious injury she is—” +</p> + +<p> +“That is the cruelty of my position,” moaned Mrs. Durant. “I +should not hesitate a moment, but the world is so ill-natured about stepmothers +that one has to be over-careful, and with daughters of my own, I’m afraid +people—perhaps my own husband—would think I was trying to sacrifice +her to them.” +</p> + +<p> +“But have you no friend you could ask to—?” +</p> + +<p> +“Josie! Would you?” eagerly interrupted Mrs. Durant. “She +will be influenced, I know, by anything you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Gracious, my dear, I never dreamed of—of you asking me! Why, I +don’t + +know her in the least. I couldn’t, really.” +</p> + +<p> +“But for my sake? And you know her as well as—as any one else; for +Constance has no intimates or—” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you see that’s it? I’d as soon think +of—of—From me she would only take it as an impertinence.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see why everybody stands so in awe of a girl of +twenty-three, unless it’s because she’s rich,” querulously +sighed Mrs. Durant. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think it’s that, Anne. It’s her proud face and +reserved manner. And I believe those are the real reasons for her not marrying. +However much men may admire her, they—they—Well, it’s your +kittenish, cuddling kind of a girl they marry.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; you are entirely wrong. Doubtless it is her money, but Constance has +had plenty of admirers, and if she were + +less self—if she considered the interests of the family—she would +have married years ago. But she is wholly blind to her duty, and checks or +rebuffs every man who attempts to show her devotion. And just because others +take their places, she is puffed up into the belief that she is to go through +life with an everlasting train of would-be suitors, and so enjoys her own +triumph, with never a thought of my girls.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not ask her father to speak to her?” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear! As if I hadn’t, a dozen times at the least,” +</p> + +<p> +“And what does he say?” +</p> + +<p> +“That Constance shows her sense by not caring for the men <i>I</i> invite +to the house! As if <i>I</i> could help it! Of course with three girls in the +house one must cultivate dancing-men, and it’s very unfair to blame me if +they aren’t all one could wish.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought Constance gave up going to dances last winter?” +</p> + +<p> +“She did, but still I must ask them to my dinners, for if I don’t +they won’t show Muriel and Doris attention. Mr. Durant should realise +that I only do it for their sakes; yet to listen to him you’d suppose it +was my duty to close my doors to dancing-men, and spend my time seeking out the +kind one never hears of—who certainly don’t know how to dance, and +who would either not talk at my dinners, or would lecture upon one subject to +the whole table—just because they are what he calls ‘purposeful +men.’” +</p> + +<p> +“He probably recognises that the society man is not a marrying species, +while the other is.” +</p> + +<p> +“But there are several who would marry Constance in a minute if +she’d only give any one of them the smallest encouragement; and +that’s what I mean when I complain of her being so unimpressionable. +Muriel and Doris like our set of men well enough, and I don’t see what +right she has to be so over-particular.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Ferguson rose and began the adjustment of her wrap, while saying, +“It seems to me there is but one thing for you to do, Anne.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” eagerly questioned Mrs. Durant. +</p> + +<p> +“Indulge in a little judicious matchmaking,” suggested the friend, +as she held out her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s utterly useless, Josie. I’ve tried again and again, and +every time have only done harm.” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” +</p> + +<p> +“She won’t—she is so suspicious. Now, last winter, Weston +Curtis was sending her flowers and—and, oh, all that sort of thing, and +so I invited him to dinner several times, and always put him next Constance, +and tried to help + +him in other ways, until she—well, what do you think that girl +did?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Ferguson’s interest led her to drop her outstretched hand. +“Requested you not to?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Not one word did she have the grace to say to me, Josie, but she wrote +to him, and asked him not to send her any more flowers! Just think of +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then that’s why he went to India.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Of course if she had come and told me she didn’t care for +him, I never would have kept on inviting him; but she is so secretive it is +impossible to tell what she is thinking about. I never dreamed that she was +conscious that I was trying to—to help her; and I have always been so +discreet that I think she never would have been if Mr. Durant hadn’t +begun to joke about it. Only guess, darling, what he said to me once right +before her, just as I thought I + +was getting her interested in young Schenck!” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t imagine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it was some of his Wall Street talk about promoters of trusts always +securing options on the properties to be taken in, before attempting a +consolidation, or something of that sort. I shouldn’t have known what he +meant if the boys hadn’t laughed and looked at Constance. And then Jack +made matters worse by saying that my interest would be satisfied with common +stock, but Constance would only accept preferred for hers. Men do blurt things +out so—and yet they assert that we women haven’t tongue discretion. +No, dear, with them about it’s perfectly useless for me to do so much as +lift a finger to marry Constance off, let alone her own naturally distrustful +nature.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, can’t you get some one to do it for you—some +friend of hers?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t believe there is a person in the world who could influence +Constance as regards marriage,” moaned Mrs. Durant. “Don’t +think that I want to sacrifice her, dear; but she really isn’t happy +herself—for—well—she is a stepdaughter, you know—and so +can never quite be the same in the family life; and now that she has tired of +society, she really doesn’t find enough to do to keep busy. Constance +wanted to go into the Settlement work, but her father wouldn’t hear of +it—and really, Josie, every one would be happier and better if she only +would marry—” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon for interrupting you, mama. I thought you were +alone,” came a voice from the doorway. “How do you do, Mrs. +Ferguson?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” ejaculated both ladies, as they looked up, to find standing +in the doorway a handsome girl, with clear-cut patrician features, and an erect +carriage + +which gave her an air of marked distinction. +</p> + +<p> +“I only stopped to ask about the errand you asked me to do when I went +out,” explained the girl, quietly, as the two women hunted for something +to say. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh. Yes. Thank you for remembering, darling,” stammered Mrs. +Durant, finding her voice at last. “Won’t you please order a bunch +of something sent to Miss Porter—and—and—I’ll be very +much obliged if you’ll attend to it, Constance, my dear.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl merely nodded her head as she disappeared, but neither woman spoke +till the front door was heard to close, when Mrs. Durant exclaimed, “How +long had she been standing there?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope she didn’t hear!” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think she could have, or she would have shown it +more,” +</p> + +<p> +“That doesn’t mean anything. She + +never shows anything outwardly. And really, though I wouldn’t purposely +have said it to her, I’m not sure that I hope she didn’t hear +it—for—well, I do wish some one would give her just such +advice.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear, it isn’t a case for advice; it’s a case for +match-making,” reiterated Mrs. Ferguson, as she once more held out her +hand. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Miss Durant thoughtfully went down the steps to her carriage, so +abstracted from what she was doing that after the footman tucked the fur robe +about her feet, he stood waiting for his orders; and finally, realising his +mistress’s unconsciousness, touched his hat and asked,— +</p> + +<p> +“Where to, Miss Constance?” +</p> + +<p> +With a slight start the girl came back from her meditations, and, after a +moment’s hesitation, gave a direction. + +Then, as the man mounted to his seat and the brougham started, the girl’s +face, which had hitherto been pale, suddenly flushed, and she leaned back in +the carriage, so that no one should see her wipe her eyes with her +handkerchief. +</p> + +<p> +“I do wish,” she murmured, with a slight break in her voice, +“that at least mama wouldn’t talk about it to outsiders. +I—I’d marry to-morrow, just to escape it +all—if—if—a loveless marriage wasn’t even worse.” +The girl shivered slightly, and laid her head against the cushioned side, as if +weary. +</p> + +<p> +She was still so busy with her thoughts that she failed to notice when the +brougham stopped at the florist’s, and once more was only recalled to +concrete concerns by the footman opening the door. The ordering of some flowers +for a débutante evidently steadied her and allowed her to regain self-control, +for she drove in succession to the jeweller’s + +to select a wedding gift, and to the dressmaker’s for a fitting, at each +place giving the closest attention to the matter in hand. These nominal duties, +but in truth pleasures, concluded, nominal pleasures, but in truth duties, +succeeded them, and the carriage halted at four houses long enough to ascertain +that the especial objects of Miss Durant’s visits “begged to be +excused,” or were “not at home,” each of which pieces of +information, or, to speak more correctly, the handing in by the footman, in +response to the information, of her card or cards, drew forth an unmistakable +sigh of relief from that young lady. Evidently Miss Durant was bored by people, +and this to those experienced in the world should be proof that Miss Durant +was, in fact, badly bored by herself. +</p> + +<p> +One consequence of her escape, however, was that the girl remained with an hour +which must be got through with + +in some manner, and so, in a voice totally without desire or eagerness, she +said, “The Park, Wallace;” and in the Park some fifty minutes were +spent, her greatest variation from the monotony of the wonted and familiar +roads being an occasional nod of the head to people driving or riding, with a +glance at those with each, or at the costumes they wore. +</p> + +<p> +It was with a distinct note of anticipation in her voice, therefore, that Miss +Durant finally ordered, “Home, now, Murdock;” and, if the truth +were to be told, the chill in her hands and feet, due to the keen November +cold, with a mental picture of the blazing wood fire of her own room, and of +the cup of tea that would be drank in front of it, was producing almost the +first pleasurable prospect of the day to her. +</p> + +<p> +Seemingly the coachman was as eager to be in-doors as his mistress, for he +whipped up the horses, and the carriage + +was quickly crossing the plaza and speeding down the avenue. Though the street +was crowded with vehicles and pedestrians, the growing darkness put an end to +Miss Durant’s nods of recognition, and she leaned back, once more buried +in her own thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +At Forty-second Street she was sharply recalled from whatever her mind was +dwelling upon by a sudden jar, due to the checking of the carriage, and +simultaneously with it came the sound of crashing of glass and splintering of +wood. So abrupt was the halt that Miss Durant was pitched forward, and as she +put out her hand to save herself from being thrown into the bottom of the +brougham, she caught a moment’s glimpse of a ragged boy close beside her +window, and heard, even above the hurly-burly of the pack of carriages and +street-crossers, his shrill cry,— +</p> + +<p> +“Extry <i>Woild</i>’r <i>Joinal</i>. Terrible—” +</p> + +<p> +There the words ended, for the distraught horses shied backwards and sideways, +and the fore wheel, swung outwards by the sharp turn, struck the little fellow +and threw him down. Miss Durant attempted a warning cry, but it was too late; +and even as it rang out, the carriage gave a jolt and then a jar as it passed +over the body. Instantly came a dozen warning shouts and shrieks and curses, +and the horses reared and plunged wildly, with the new fright of something +under their feet. +</p> + +<p> +White with terror, the girl caught at the handle, but she did no more than +throw open the door, for, as if they sprang from the ground, a crowd of men +were pressing about the brougham. All was confusion for a moment; then the +tangle of vehicles seemed to open out and the mob of people, struggling and +gesticulating, fell back before a policeman while another, aided by some one, + +caught the heads of the two horses, just as the footman drew out from under +their feet into the cleared space something which looked like a bundle of rags +and newspapers. +</p> + +<p> +Thinking of nothing save that limp little body, Miss Durant sprang out, and +kneeling beside it, lifted the head gently into her lap, and smoothed back from +the pallid face the unkempt hair. “He isn’t dead, Wallace?” +she gasped out. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think he is, Miss Constance, though he looks like he was +bad hurt. An’, indeed, Miss Constance, it wasn’t Murdock’s +fault. The coupé backed right into our pole without—” +</p> + +<p> +“Here,” interrupted a man’s voice from the circle of +spectators, “give him this;” and some one handed to the girl the +cup of a flask half full of brandy. Dipping her fingers into it, she rubbed +them across the mouth and forehead; then, raising the head with one of her + +arms, she parted the lips and poured a few drops between them. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, mum,” suggested the policeman. “Just you let go of it, +and we’ll lift it to where it can stay till the ambulance gets +here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t,” begged Miss Durant. “He shouldn’t be +moved until—” +</p> + +<p> +“Like as not it’ll take ten minutes to get it here, and we +can’t let the street stay blocked like this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ten minutes!” exclaimed the girl. “Isn’t it +possible—We must get help sooner, or he—” She broke in upon +her own words, “Lift him into my carriage, and I’ll take him to the +hospital.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t let you, miss,” spoke up a police sergeant, who +meantime had forced his way through the crowd. “Your coachman’s got +to stay and answer for this.” +</p> + +<p> +“He shall, but not now,” protested Miss Durant. “I will be +responsible for + +him. Wallace, give them one of my cards from the case in the carriage.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus02"></a> +<img src="images/image2.jpg" width="320" height="458" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“Miss Durant sprang out and lifted the head gently”</p> +</div> + +<p> +The officer took the bit of pasteboard and looked at it. “That’s +all right, miss,” he said. “Here, Casey, together now and +easy.” +</p> + +<p> +The two big men in uniform lifted the urchin as if he were without weight, and +laid him as gently as might be on the seat of the brougham. This done, the +roundsman dropped the small front seat, helped Miss Durant in, and once she was +seated upon it, took his place beside her. The sergeant closed the door, gave +an order to the coachman, and, wheeling about, the carriage turned up the +avenue, followed by the eyes of the crowd and by a trail of the more curious. +</p> + +<p> +“Better give it another swig, mum,” counselled her companion; and +the girl, going on her knees, raised the head, and administered a second +swallow of the brandy. She did not resume her seat, + +but kept her arm about the boy, in an attempt to render his position easier. It +was a wizened, pinched little face she gazed down at, and now the mouth was +drawn as if there was physical suffering, even in the unconsciousness. Neither +head nor hands had apparently ever known soap, but the dirt only gave +picturesqueness, and, indeed, to Miss Durant an added pathos; and the tears +came into her eyes as she noted that under the ragged coat was only a flimsy +cotton shirt, so bereft of buttons that the whole chest was exposed to the cold +which but a little while before the girl, clad in furs and sheltered by the +carriage, had yet found so nipping. She raised her free hand and laid it gently +on the exposed breast, and slightly shivered as she felt how little warmth +there was. +</p> + +<p> +“Please put the fur rug over him,” she requested; and her companion +pulled it + +from under their feet, and laid it over the coiled-up legs and body. +</p> + +<p> +The weight, or the second dose of the stimulant, had an effect, for Miss Durant +felt the body quiver, and then the eyes unclosed. At first they apparently saw +nothing, but slowly the dulness left them, and they, and seemingly the whole +face, sharpened into comprehension, and then, as they fastened on the blue coat +of the policeman, into the keenest apprehension. +</p> + +<p> +“Say,” he moaned, “I didn’t do nuttin’, dis time, +honest.” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t takin’ you to the station-house,” denied the +officer, colouring and looking sideways at his companion. +</p> + +<p> +“You were run over, and we are carrying you to where a doctor can see how +much you are hurt,” said the gently. +</p> + +<p> +The eyes of the boy turned to hers, and the face lost some of its fright and + +suspicion. “Is dat on de level?” he asked, after a moment’s +scrutiny. “Youse oin’t runnin’ me in?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” answered Miss Durant. “We are taking you to the +hospital.” +</p> + +<p> +“De horspital!” exclaimed the little chap, his eyes brightening. +“Is Ise in de rattler?” +</p> + +<p> +“The what?” asked Constance. +</p> + +<p> +“De rattler,” repeated the questioner, “de ding-dong.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you ain’t in no ambulance,” spoke up the officer. +“You’re in this young lady’s carriage.” +</p> + +<p> +The look of hope and pride faded out of the boy’s face. “Ise +oin’t playin’ in no sorter luck dese days,” he sighed. +Suddenly the expression of alarm reappeared in his face. “Wheer’s +me papes?” +</p> + +<p> +“They’re all right. Don’t you work yourself up over +them,” said the roundsman, heartily. +</p> + +<p> +“Youse didn’t let de udder newsies swipe dem, did youse?” the +lad appealed anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll pay you for every one you lost,” offered Constance. +“How many did you have?” +</p> + +<p> +The ragamuffin stared at her for a moment, his face an essence of disbelief. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, hell!” he ejaculated. “Wot’s dis song an’ +dance youse givin’ us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, I will,” insisted the girl. She reached back of her and +took her purse from the rack, and as well as she could with her one hand opened +it. +</p> + +<p> +The sight of the bills and coin brought doubt to the sceptic. +“Say,” he demanded, his eyes burning with avidity, “does +youse mean dat? Dere oin’t no crawl in dis?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. How much were they worth?” +</p> + +<p> +The boy hesitated, and scanned her face, as if he were measuring the girl more +than he was his loss. “Dere wuz + +twinty <i>Joinals</i>” he said, speaking slowly, and his eyes watching +her as a cat might a mouse, “an’—an’—twinty +<i>Woilds</i>—an’—an’ tirty <i>Telegrams</i>— +an’—an’—” He drew a fresh breath, as if needing +strength, shot an apprehensive glance at the roundsman, and went on hurriedly, +in a lower voice, “an’ tirty-five <i>Posts</i>—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, g’long with you,” broke in the policeman, disgustedly. +“He didn’t have mor’n twenty in all, that I know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hope I may die if Ise didn’t have all dem papes, boss,” +protested the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“You deserve to be run in, that’s what you do,” asserted the +officer of the law, angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t threaten him,” begged Miss Durant. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you be fooled by him, mum. He ain’t the kind as sells +<i>Posts</i>, an’ if he was, he wouldn’t have more’n +five.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s de gospel trute Ise chuckin’ at youse dis time,” +asserted the youngster. +</p> + +<p> +“Gospel Ananias—!” began the officer. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind,” interrupted Miss Durant. “Would ten dollars pay +for them all?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, I know’d youse wuz tryin’ to stuff me,” dejectedly +exclaimed the boy; then, in an evident attempt to save his respect for his own +acuteness, he added: “But youse didn’t. I seed de goime youse wuz +settin’ up right from de start.” +</p> + +<p> +Out of the purse Constance, with some difficulty, drew a crisp ten-dollar bill, +the boy watching the one-handed operation half doubtingly and half eagerly; and +when it was finally achieved, at the first movement of her hand toward him, his +arm shot out, and the money was snatched, more than taken. With the quick +motion, however, the look of eagerness and joy changed to one of agony; he gave +a + +sharp cry, and, despite the grime, the cheeks whitened perceptibly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, please stay quiet,” implored Miss Durant. “You +mustn’t move.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hully gee, but dat hurted!” gasped the youngster, yet clinging to +the new wealth. He lay quiet for a few breaths; then, as if he feared the sight +of the bill might in time tempt a change of mind in the giver, he stole the +hand to his trousers pocket and endeavoured to smuggle the money into it, his +teeth set, but his lips trembling, with the pain the movement cost him. +</p> + +<p> +Not understanding the fear in the boy’s mind, Constance put her free hand +down and tried to assist him; but the instant he felt her fingers, his +tightened violently. “Youse guv it me,” he wailed. +“Didn’t she guv it me?” he appealed desperately to the +policeman. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m only trying to help put it in your pocket,” explained +the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, chase youseself!” exclaimed the doubter, contemptuously. +“Dat don’t go wid me. Nah!” +</p> + +<p> +“What doesn’t go?” bewilderedly questioned Miss Durant. +</p> + +<p> +“Wotcher tink youse up aginst? Suttin’ easy? Well, I guess not! +Youse don’t get youse pickers in me pocket on dat racket.” +</p> + +<p> +“She ain’t goin’ to take none of your money!” asserted +the policeman, indignantly. “Can’t you tell a real lady when you +see her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Den let her quit tryin’ to go tru me,” protested the anxious +capitalist; and Constance desisted from her misinterpreted attempt, with a +laugh which died as the little fellow, at last successful in his endeavour to +secrete the money, moaned again at the pain it cost him. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall we never get there?” she demanded impatiently, and, as if an +answer were granted her, the carriage slowed, + +and turning, passed into a porte-cochère, in which the shoes of the horses rang +out sharply, and halted. +</p> + +<p> +“Stay quiet a bit, mum,” advised the policeman, as he got out; and +Constance remained, still supporting the urchin, until two men with a stretcher +appeared, upon which they lifted the little sufferer, who screamed with pain +that even this gentlest of handling cost him. +</p> + +<p> +Her heart wrung with sympathy for him, Miss Durant followed after them into the +reception-ward. At the door she hesitated, in doubt as to whether it was right +or proper for her to follow, till the sight of a nurse reassured her, and she +entered; but her boldness carried her no farther than to stand quietly while +the orderlies set down the litter. Without a moment’s delay the nurse +knelt beside the boy, and with her scissors began slitting up the sleeves of +the tattered coat. +</p> + +<p> +“Hey! Wotcher up to?” demanded the waif, suspiciously. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m getting you ready for the doctor,” said the nurse, +soothingly. “It’s all right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Toin’t nuttin’ of de sort,” moaned the boy. +“Youse spoilin’ me cloes, an’ if youse wuzn’t a loidy, +you’d get youse face poked in, dat’s wot would happen to +youse.” +</p> + +<p> +Constance came forward and laid her hand on the little fellow’s cheek. +“Don’t mind,” she said, “and I’ll give you a new +suit of clothes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wen?” came the quick question. +</p> + +<p> +“To-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does youse mean dat? Honest? Dere oin’t no string to dis?” +</p> + +<p> +“Honest,” echoed the girl, heartily. +</p> + +<p> +Reassured, the boy lay quietly while the nurse completed the dismemberment of +the ragged coat, the apology for a shirt, and the bit of twine which served in +lieu + +of suspenders. But the moment she began on the trousers, the wail was renewed. +</p> + +<p> +“Quit, I say, or I’ll soak de two of youse; see if I don’t. +Ah, won’t youse—” The words became inarticulate howls which +the prayers and assurances of the two women could not lessen. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, then, stop this noise and tell me what is the matter,” +ordered a masculine voice; and turning from the boy, Constance found a tall, +strong-featured man with tired-looking eyes standing at the other side of the +litter. +</p> + +<p> +Hopeful that the diversion might mean assistance, the waif’s howls once +more became lingual. “Dey’s tryin’ to swipe me money, +boss,” he whined. “Hope I may die if deys oin’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“And where is your money?” asked the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“Wotcher want to know for?” demanded the urchin, with recurrent +suspicion in his face. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s in the pocket of his trousers, Dr. Armstrong,” said the +nurse. +</p> + +<p> +Without the slightest attempt to reassure the boy, the doctor forced loose the +boy’s hold on the pocket, and inserting his hand, drew out the ten-dollar +bill and a medley of small coins. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” he said, “I’ve taken your money, so they +can’t. Understand?” +</p> + +<p> +The urchin began to snivel. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you have no right to be so cruel to him,” protested Miss +Durant. “It’s perfectly natural. Just think how we would feel if we +didn’t understand.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor fumbled for his eye-glasses, but not finding them quickly enough, +squinted his eyelids in an endeavour to see the speaker. “And who are +you?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I am—that is—I am Miss Durant, and—” +stuttered the girl. +</p> + +<p> +Not giving her time to finish her speech, Dr. Armstrong asked, “Why are + +you here?” while searching for his glasses. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not mean to intrude,” explained Constance, flushing, +“only it was my fault, and it hurts me to see him suffer more than seems +necessary.” +</p> + +<p> +Abandoning the search for his glasses, and apparently unheeding of her +explanation, the doctor began a hasty examination of the now naked boy, passing +his hand over trunk and limbs with a firm touch that paid no heed to the +child’s outcries, though each turned the onlooker faint and cold. +</p> + +<p> +Her anxiety presently overcoming the sense of rebuke, the overwrought girl +asked, “He will live, won’t he?” +</p> + +<p> +The man straightened up from his examination. “Except for some +contusion,” he replied, “it apparently is only a leg and a couple +of ribs broken.” His voice and manner conveyed the idea that legs and +ribs were but canes and corsets. + +“Take him into the accident ward,” he directed to the orderlies, +“and I’ll attend to him presently.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will not have this boy neglected,” Constance said, excitedly and +warmly. “Furthermore, I insist that he receive instant treatment, and not +wait <i>your</i> convenience.” +</p> + +<p> +Once again Dr. Armstrong began feeling for his glasses, as he asked, “Are +you connected with this hospital, Miss Durant?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, but it was my carriage ran over him, and—” +</p> + +<p> +“And is it because you ran over the boy, Miss Durant,” he +interrupted, “that you think it is your right to come here and issue +instructions for our treatment of him?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is every one’s right to see that assistance is given to an +injured person as quickly as possible,” retorted the girl, though +flushing, “and to protest if human + +suffering, perhaps life itself, is made to wait the convenience of one who is +paid to save both.” +</p> + +<p> +Finally discovering and adjusting his glasses, Dr. Armstrong eyed Miss Durant +with a quality of imperturbability at once irritating and embarrassing. +“I beg your pardon for the hasty remark I just made,” he +apologised. “Not having my second sight at command, I did not realise I +was speaking to so young a girl, and therefore I allowed myself to be offended, +which was foolish. If you choose to go with the patient, I trust you will +satisfy yourself that no one in this hospital is lacking in duty or +kindness.” +</p> + +<p> +With a feeling much akin to that she had formerly suffered at the conclusion of +her youthful spankings, Constance followed hurriedly after the orderlies, only +too thankful that a reason had been given her permitting an escape from those +steady eyes and amused accents, which + +she was still feeling when the litter was set down beside an empty bed. +</p> + +<p> +“Has dat slob tooken me money for keeps?” whimpered the boy the +moment the orderlies had departed. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” Constance assured him, her hand in his. +</p> + +<p> +“Den w’y’d he pinch it so quick?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s going to take care of it for you, that’s all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will he guv me a wroten pape sayin’ dat?” +</p> + +<p> +“See,” said the girl, only eager to relieve his anxiety, +“here is my purse, and there is a great deal more money in it than you +had, and I’ll leave it with you, and if he doesn’t return you your +money, why, you shall have mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Youse cert’in dere’s more den Ise had?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certain. Look, here are two tens and three fives and a one, besides some +change.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dat’s all hunky!” joyfully ejaculated the urchin. +“Now, den, wheer kin we sneak it so he don’t git his hooks on +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“This is to be your bed, and let’s hide it under the pillow,” +suggested Constance, feeling as if she were playing a game. “Then you can +feel of it whenever you want.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dat’s de way to steal a base off ’im,” acceded the +waif. “We’ll show dese guys wese oin’t no bunch of easy +grapes.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarcely was the purse concealed when a nurse appeared with a pail of water and +rolls of some cloth, and after her came the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, my boy,” he said, with a kindness and gentleness in his voice +which surprised Constance, “I’ve got to hurt you a little, and +let’s see how brave you can be.” He took hold of the left leg the +ankle and stretched it, at the same + +time manipulating the calf with the fingers of his other hand. +</p> + +<p> +The boy gave a cry of pain, and clutched Constance’s arm, squeezing it so +as to almost make her scream; but she set her teeth determinedly and took his +other hand in hers. +</p> + +<p> +At a word the nurse grasped the limb and held it as it was placed, while the +doctor took one of the rolls, and, dipping it in the water, unrolled it round +and round the leg, with a rapidity and deftness which had, to Constance, a +quality of fascination in it. A second wet bandage was wound over the first, +then a dry one, and the leg was gently laid back on the litter. “Take his +temperature,” ordered the doctor, as he began to apply strips of adhesive +plaster to the injured ribs; and though it required some persuasion by the +nurse and Constance, the invalid finally was persuaded to let the little glass +lie under his tongue. His + +task completed, Dr. Armstrong withdrew the tube and glanced at it. +</p> + +<p> +“Dat medicine oin’t got much taste, boss,” announced the +urchin, cheerfully, “but it soytenly done me lots of good.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor looked up at Constance with a pleasant smile. “There’s +both the sense and the nonsense of the Christian Science idiocy,” he +said; and half in response to his smile and half in nervous relief, Constance +laughed merrily. +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad for anything that makes him feel better,” she replied; +then, colouring once more, she added, “and will you let me express my +regret for my impulsive words a little while ago, and my thanks to you for +relieving the suffering for which I am, to a certain extent, +responsible?” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no necessity for either, Miss Durant, though I am grateful for +both,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Will there be much suffering?” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably no more than ordinarily occurs in such simple fractures,” +said the doctor; “and we’ll certainly do our best that there shall +not be.” +</p> + +<p> +“And may I see him to-morrow?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, if you come between eleven and one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Constance. “And one last favour. Will you +tell me the way to my carriage?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you will permit me, I’ll see you to it,” offered Dr. +Armstrong. +</p> + +<p> +With an acknowledgment of the head, Constance turned and took the boy’s +hand and said a good-bye. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you suppose all newsboys are so dreadfully sharp and +suspicious?” she asked of her guide, as they began to descend the stairs, +more because she was conscious that he was eyeing her with steady scrutiny than +for any other reason. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose the life is closer to that of the wild beast than anything we +have in so-called civilisation. Even a criminal has his pals, but, like the +forest animal, everyone—even his own kind—is an enemy to the street +waif.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must be terrible to suspect and fear even kindness,” sighed the +girl, with a slight shudder. “I shall try to teach him what it +means.” +</p> + +<p> +“There does not appear to be any carriage here, Miss Durant,” +announced her escort. +</p> + +<p> +“Surely there must be. The men can’t have been so stupid as not to +wait!” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor tapped on the window of the lodge. “Didn’t this +lady’s carriage remain here?” he asked, when the porter had opened +it. +</p> + +<p> +“It stayed till the policeman came down, doctor. He ordered it to go to +the police-station, and got in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I forgot that my coachman must answer for the accident. Is there a +cab-stand near here?” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Armstrong looked into her eyes, with an amusement which yet did not +entirely obliterate the look of admiration, of which the girl was becoming more +and more conscious. “The denizens of Avenue A have several cab-stands, of +course,” he replied, “but they prefer to keep them over on Fifth +Avenue.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was a foolish question, I suppose” coldly retorted Constance, +quite as moved thereto by the scrutiny as by the words, “but I did not +even notice where the carriage was driving when we came here. Can you tell me +the nearest car line which will take me to Washington Square?” +</p> + +<p> +“As it is five blocks away, and the neighbourhood is not of the nicest, I +shall take the liberty of walking with you to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, I would rather not. I haven’t the slightest fear,” +protested the girl, eager to escape both the observation and the obligation. +</p> + +<p> +“But I have,” calmly said her companion, as if his wish were the +only thing to be considered. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment Miss Durant vacillated, then, with a very slight inclination of +her head, conveying the smallest quantity of consent and acknowledgment she +could express, she walked out of the porte-cochere. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor put himself beside her, and; they turned down the street, but not +one word did she say. “If he will force his society upon me, I will at +least show him my dislike of it,” was her thought. +</p> + +<p> +Obviously Dr. Armstrong was not disturbed by Miss Durant’s programme, for +the whole distance was walked in silence; and even when they halted on the +corner, he said nothing, though the girl was conscious that his eyes still +studied her face. +</p> + +<p> +“I will not be the first to speak,” she vowed to herself; but +minute after minute + +passed without the slightest attempt or apparent wish on his part, and finally +she asked, “Are you sure this line is running?” +</p> + +<p> +Her attendant pointed up the street. “That yellow light is your car. I +don’t know why the intervals are so long this evening. +Usually—” +</p> + +<p> +He was interrupted by the girl suddenly clutching at her dress, and then giving +an exclamation of real consternation. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” he questioned. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I—nothing—that is, I think—I prefer to walk home, +after all,” she stammered. +</p> + +<p> +“You mustn’t do that. It’s over two miles, and through a +really rough district.” +</p> + +<p> +“I choose to, none the less,” answered Constance, starting across +the street. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you will have to submit to my safeguard for some time longer, + +Miss Durant,” asserted the doctor, as he overtook her. +</p> + +<p> +Constance stopped. “Dr. Armstrong,” she said, “I trust you +will not insist on accompanying me farther, when I tell you I haven’t the +slightest fear of anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have no fear, Miss Durant,” he answered, “because you +are too young and inexperienced to even know the possibilities. This is no part +of the city for you to walk alone in after dark. Your wisest course is to take +a car, but if you prefer not, you had best let me go with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I choose not to take a car,” replied the girl, warmly, “and +you have no right to accompany me against my wish.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Armstrong raised his hat. “I beg your pardon. I did not realize that +my presence was not desired,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Angry at both herself and him, Constance merely bowed, and walked on. “I +don’t see why men have to torment + +me so,” she thought, as she hurried along. “His face was really +interesting, and if he only wouldn’t begin like—He never would have +behaved so if—if I weren’t—” Miss Durant checked even +her thoughts from the word “beautiful,” and allowed the words +“well dressed” to explain her magnetism to the other sex. Then, as +if to salve her conscience of her own hypocrisy, she added, “It really is +an advantage to a girl, if she doesn’t want to be bothered by men, to be +born plain.” +</p> + +<p> +The truth of her thought was brought home to her with unexpected suddenness, +for as she passed a strip of sidewalk made light by the glare from a saloon +brilliant with gas, a man just coming out of its door stared boldly, and then +joined her. +</p> + +<p> +“Ahem!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +The girl quickened her pace, but the intruder only lengthened his. +</p> + +<p> +“Cold night, isn’t it, darling?” he remarked, and tried to +take her arm. +</p> + +<p> +Constance shrank away from the familiarity with a loathing and fear which, as +her persecutor followed, drove her to the curb. +</p> + +<p> +“How dare you?” she burst out, finding he was not to be avoided. +</p> + +<p> +“Now don’t be silly, and—” +</p> + +<p> +There the sentence ended, for the man was jerked backwards by the collar, and +then shot forward, with a shove, full length into the gutter. +</p> + +<p> +“I feared you would need assistance, Miss Durant, and so took the liberty +of following you at a distance,” explained Dr. Armstrong, as the cur +picked himself up and slunk away. +</p> + +<p> +“You are very— Thank you deeply for your kindness, Dr. +Armstrong,” gasped the girl, her voice trembling. “I ought to have +been guided by your advice and taken the car, but the truth + +is, I suddenly remembered - that is, I happened to be without any money, and +was ashamed to ask you for a loan. Now, if you’ll lend me five cents, I +shall be most grateful.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is said to be a feminine trait never to think of +contingencies,” remarked the doctor, “and I think, Miss Durant, +that your suggested five cents has a tendency in that direction. I will walk +with you to Lexington Avenue, which is now your nearest line, and if you still +persist then in refusing my escort, I shall insist that you become my debtor +for at least a dollar.” +</p> + +<p> +“I really need not take you any further than the car, thank you, Dr. +Armstrong, for I can get a cab at Twenty-third Street.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a short walk to the car line,—too short, indeed, for Miss Durant +to express her sense of obligation as she wished,—and she tried, even as +she was + +mounting the steps, to say a last word, but the car swept her away with the +sentence half spoken; and with a want of dignity that was not customary in her, +she staggered to a seat. Then as she tendered a dollar bill to the conductor, +she remarked to herself,— +</p> + +<p> +“Now, that’s a man I’d like for a friend, if only he +wouldn’t be foolish.” +</p> + +<p> +At eleven on the following morning, Miss Durant’s carriage once more +stopped at the hospital door; and, bearing a burden of flowers, and followed by +the footman carrying a large basket, Constance entered the ward, and made her +way to the waif’s bedside. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-morning,” she said to Dr. Armstrong, who stood beside the +next patient. “How is our invalid doing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Good-morning,” responded the doctor, taking the hand she held out. +“I think—” +</p> + +<p> +“We’s takin’ life dead easy, dat’s wot wese is,” +came the prompt interruption from the pillow, in a voice at once youthful yet +worn. “Say, dis oin’t no lead pipe cinch, oh, no!” +</p> + +<p> +It was a very different face the girl found, for soap and water had worked +wonders with it, and the scissors and brush had reduced the tangled shag of +hair to order. Yet the ferret eyes and the alert, over-sharp expression were +unchanged. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve brought you some flowers and goodies,” said Miss +Durant. “I don’t know how much of it will be good for him,” +she went on to the doctor, apologetically, “but I hope some will +do.” Putting the flowers on the bed, from the basket she produced in +succession two bottles of port, a mould of wine jelly, a jar of orange +marmalade, a box of wafers, and a dish of grapes, apples, and bananas. +</p> + +<p> +“Gee! Won’t Ise have a hell of a gorge!” joyfully burst out +the invalid. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll see about that,” remarked Dr. Armstrong, smiling. +“He can have all the other things you’ve brought, in reason, Miss +Durant, except the wine. That must wait till we see how much fever he develops +to-day,” +</p> + +<p> +“He is doing well?” +</p> + +<p> +“So far, yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a great relief to me. And, Dr. Armstrong, in returning your loan +to me, will you let me say once again how grateful I am to you for all your +kindness, for which I thanked you so inadequately last night? I deserved all +that came to me, and can only wonder how you ever resisted saying, ‘I +told you so.’” +</p> + +<p> +“I have been too often wrong in my own diagnosing to find any +satisfaction or triumph in the mistakes of others,” said the doctor, as +he took the bill the + +girl held out to him, and, let it be confessed, the fingers that held it, +“nor can I regret anything which gave me an opportunity to serve +you.” +</p> + +<p> +The speaker put an emphasis on the last word, and eyed Miss Durant in a way +that led her to hastily withdraw her fingers, and turn away from his +unconcealed admiration. It was to find the keen eyes of the urchin observing +them with the closest attention; and as she realised it, she coloured, half in +embarrassment and half in irritation. +</p> + +<p> +“How is your leg?” she asked, in an attempt to divert the +boy’s attention and to conceal her own feeling. +</p> + +<p> +“Say. Did youse know dey done it up in plaster, so dat it’s stiff +as a bat?” responded the youngster, eagerly. “Wish de udder kids +could see it, for dey’ll never believe it w’en Ise tells ’em. +I’ll show it to youse if youse want?” he offered, in his joy over +the novelty. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw it put on,” said Constance. “Don’t you +remember?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, cert! Ise remembers now dat—” A sudden change came over +the boy’s face. “Wheer’s dem cloes youse promised me?” +he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I entirely forgot—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, forgit youse mudder! Youse a peach, oin’t youse?” +contemptuously broke in the child. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Durant and Dr. Armstrong both burst out laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“Youse t’ink youse a smarty, but Ise know’d de hull time it +wuz only a big bluff dat youse wuz tryin’ to play on me, an’ it +didn’t go wid me, nah!” went on the youngster, in an aggrieved +tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t he perfectly incorrigible?” sighed Constance. +</p> + +<p> +“Ise oin’t,” denied the boy, indignantly. “Deyse only +had me up onct.” +</p> + +<p> +With the question the girl had turned to Dr. Armstrong; then, finding his eyes + +still intently studying her, she once more gave her attention to the waif. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, I did forget them,” she asserted. “You shall have a +new suit long before you need it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Cert’in dat oin’t no fake extry youse shoutin’?” +</p> + +<p> +“Truly. How old are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wotcher want to know for?” suspiciously asked the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“So I can buy a suit for that age.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dat goes. Ise ate.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what’s your name?” +</p> + +<p> +“Swot.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” exclaimed the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Nah. Swot,” he corrected. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you spell it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Dun’no’. Dat’s wot de newsies calls me, ’cause +of wot Ise says to de preacher man.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what was that?” +</p> + +<p> +“It wuz one of dem religious mugs wot comes Sunday to de Mulberry Park, + +see, an’ dat day he wuz gassin’ to us kids ’bout +lettin’ a guy as had hit youse onct doin’ it ag’in; an’ +w’en he’d pumped hisself empty, he says to me, says he, ‘If a +bad boy fetched youse a lick on youse cheek, wot would youse do to +’im?’ An’ Ise says, ‘I’d swot ’im in de +gob, or punch ’im in de slats,’ says I; an’ so de swipes +calls me by dat noime. Honest, now, oin’t dat kinder talk jus’ +sickenin’?” +</p> + +<p> +“But you must have another name,” suggested Miss Durant, declining +to commit herself on that question. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what is that?” +</p> + +<p> +“McGarrigle.” +</p> + +<p> +“And have you no father or mother?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nah.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or brothers or sisters?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nah. Ise oin’t got nuttin’.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where do you live?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, rubber!” disgustedly remarked + +Swot. “Say, dis oin’t no police court, see?” +</p> + +<p> +During all these questions, and to a certain extent their cause, Constance had +been quite conscious that the doctor was still watching her, and now she once +more turned to him, to say, with an inflection of disapproval,— +</p> + +<p> +“When I spoke to you just now, Dr. Armstrong, I did not mean to interrupt +you in your duties, and you must not let me detain you from them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had made my morning rounds long before you came, Miss Durant,” +equably answered the doctor, “and had merely come back for a moment to +take a look at one of the patients.” +</p> + +<p> +“I feared you were neglecting—were allowing my arrival to interfere +with more important matters,” replied Miss Durant, frigidly. “I +never knew a denser man,” she added to herself, again seeking to ignore +his presence by giving her attention to Swot. “I should have brought a +book with me to-day, to read aloud to you, but I had no idea what kind of a +story would interest you. If you know of one, I’ll get it and come +to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gee, Ise in it dis time wid bote feet, oin’t Ise? Say, will youse +git one of de Old Sleuts? Deys de peachiest books dat wuz ever wroten.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will, if my bookshop has one, or can get it for me in time.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is little chance of your getting it there, Miss Durant,” +interposed Dr. Armstrong; “but there is a place not far from here where +stories of that character are kept; and if it will save you any trouble, +I’ll gladly get one of them for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have already overtaxed your kindness,” replied Constance, +“and so will not trouble you in this.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be no trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, but I shall enjoy the search myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Say,” broke in the urchin. “Youse ought to let de doc do it. +Don’t youse see dat he wants to, ’cause he’s stuck on +youse?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I’ll come to-morrow and read to you, Swot,” hastily +remarked Miss Durant, pulling her veil over her face. “Good-bye.” +Without heeding the boy’s “Dat’s fine,” or giving Dr. +Armstrong a word of farewell, she went hurrying along the ward, and then +downstairs, to her carriage. Yet once within its shelter, the girl leaned back +and laughed merrily. “It’s perfectly absurd for him to behave so +before all the nurses and patients, and he ought to know better. It is to be +hoped <i>that</i> was a sufficiently broad hint for his comprehension, and that +henceforth he won’t do it.” +</p> + +<p> +Yet it must be confessed that the boy’s remark frequently recurred that +day to + +Miss Durant; and if it had no other result, it caused her to devote an amount +of thought to Dr. Armstrong quite out of proportion to the length of the +acquaintance. +</p> + +<p> +Whatever the inward effect, Miss Durant could discover no outward evidence that +Swot’s bombshell had moved Dr. Armstrong a particle more than her less +pointed attempts to bring to him a realisation that he was behaving in a manner +displeasing to her. When she entered the ward the next morning, the doctor was +again there, and this time at the waif’s bedside, making avoidance of him +out of the question. So with a “this-is-my-busy-day” manner, she +gave him the briefest of greetings, and then turned to the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve brought you some more goodies, Swot, and I found the +story,” she announced triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, youse a winner, dat’s wot youse is; oin’t she, doc? +Wot’s de noime?” +</p> + +<p> +Constance held up to him the red and yellow covered tale. “<i>The +Cracksman’s Spoil, or Young Sleuth’s Double Artifice”</i> she +read out proudly. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, g’way! Dat oin’t no good. Say, dey didn’t do a +t’ing to youse, did dey?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Dey sold youse fresh, dat’s wot dey did. De Young Sleut books +oin’t no good. Dey’s nuttin’ but a fake extry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Constance, crestfallenly. “It took me +the whole afternoon to find it, but I did think it was what you wanted.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was sceptical of your being able to get even an approach to newsboy +literature, Miss Durant,” said Dr. Armstrong, “and so squandered +the large sum of a dime myself. I think this is the genuine article, +isn’t it?” he asked, as he handed + +to the boy a pamphlet labelled <i>Old Sleuth on the Trail</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“Dat’s de real t’ing,” jubilantly acceded Swot. +“Say, oin’t de women doisies for havin’ bases stole off +’em? Didn’t Ise give youse de warm tip to let de doc git it?” +</p> + +<p> +“You should thank him for saving you from my stupid blunder,” +answered the girl, artfully avoiding all possibility of personal obligation. +“Would you like me to read it to you now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wouldn’t Ise, just!” +</p> + +<p> +Still ignoring Dr. Armstrong, Constance took the seat at the bedside, and +opening the book, launched into the wildest sea of blood-letting and crime. Yet +thrillingly as it began, she was not oblivious to the fact that for some +minutes the doctor stood watching her, and she was quite conscious of when he +finally moved away, noiselessly as he went. Once he was gone, she was + +more at her ease; yet clearly her conscience troubled her a little, for in her +carriage she again gave expression to some thought by remarking aloud, +“It was rude, of course, but if he will behave so, it really isn’t +my fault.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus03"></a> +<img src="images/image3.jpg" width="320" height="445" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“Constance took the seat at the bedside”</p> +</div> + +<p> +The gory tale, in true serial style, was “continued” the next and +succeeding mornings, to the enthralment of the listener and the amusement of +the reader, the latter finding in her occupation as well a convenient reason +for avoiding or putting a limit to the doctor’s undisguised endeavours to +share, if not, indeed, to monopolise, her attention. Even serials, however, +have an end, and on the morning of the sixth reading the impossibly shrewd +detective successfully put out of existence, or safely incarcerated each one of +the numerous scoundrels who had hitherto triumphed over the law, and Constance +closed the book. +</p> + +<p> +“Hully gee!” sighed Swot, contentedly. + +“Say, dat Old Sleut, he’s up to de limit, oin’t he? It +don’t matter wot dey does, he works it so’s de hull push comes his +way, don’t he?” +</p> + +<p> +“He certainly was very far-seeing,” Constance conceded; “but +what a pity it is that he—that he wasn’t in some finer +calling.” +</p> + +<p> +“Finer wot?” +</p> + +<p> +“How much nobler it would have been if, instead of taking life, he had +been saving it—like Dr. Armstrong, for instance,” she added, to +bring her idea within the comprehension of the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, dat’s de talk for religious mugs an’ goils,” +contemptuously exclaimed the waif, “but it guv’s me de sore ear. It +don’t go wid me, not one little bit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you grateful to Dr. Armstrong for all he’s done for +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bet youse life,” assented Swot; “but Ise oin’t +goin’ to be no doctor, nah! Ise goin’ to git on de force, +dat’s de racket Ise outer. Say, will youse read me anudder of dem +stories?” +</p> + +<p> +“Gladly, if I can find the right kind this time.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy raised his head to look about the ward. “Hey, doc,” called +his cracked treble. +</p> + +<p> +“Hush, don’t!” protested the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“W’y not?” +</p> + +<p> +Before she could frame a reason, the doctor was at the bedside. “What is +it?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, wese got tru wid dis story, an’ Miss Constance says +she’ll read me anudder, but dey’ll set de goime up on her, sure, +she bein’ a goil; so will youse buy de real t’ing?” +</p> + +<p> +“That I will.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dat’s hunky.” Then he appealed to Constance. “Say, +will youse pay for it?” he requested. +</p> + +<p> +“And why should she?” inquired Dr. Armstrong. +</p> + +<p> +“’Cause she’s got de dough, an Ise heard de nurse loidies +talkin’ ’bout youse, an’ dey said dat youse wuz poor.” +</p> + +<p> +It was the doctor’s turn to colour, and flush he did. +</p> + +<p> +“Swot and I will both be very grateful, Dr. Armstrong, if you will get us +another of the Old Sleuth books,” spoke up Miss Durant, hastily. +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t youse guv ’im de price?” reiterated the urchin. +</p> + +<p> +“Then we’ll expect it to-morrow morning,” went on the girl; +and for the first time in days she held out her hand to Dr. Armstrong, +“And thank you in advance for your kindness. Good-morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rats!” she heard, as she walked away. “I didn’t tink +she’d do de grand sneak like dat, doc, jus’ ’cause I tried to +touch her for de cash.” +</p> + +<p> +Constance slowed one step, then resumed her former pace. “He +surely— Of course he’ll understand why I hurried away,” she +murmured. +</p> + +<p> +Blind as he might be, Dr. Armstrong was not blind to the geniality of Miss +Durant’s greeting the next morning, or the warmth of her thanks for the +cheap-looking dime novel. She chatted pleasantly with him some moments before +beginning on the new tale; and even when she at last opened the book, there was +a subtle difference in the way she did it that made it include instead of +exclude him from a share in the reading. And this was equally true of the +succeeding days. +</p> + +<p> +The new doings of Old Sleuth did not achieve the success that the previous ones +had. The invalid suddenly developed both restlessness and inattention, with +such a tendency to frequent interruptions as to make reading well-nigh +impossible. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Swot,” Constance was driven + +to threaten one morning, when he had broken in on the narrative for the seventh +time with questions which proved that he was giving no heed to the book, +“unless you lie quieter, and don’t interrupt so often, I shall not +go on reading.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dat goes,” acceded the little fellow; yet before she had so much +as finished a page he asked, “Say, did youse ever play craps?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she answered, with a touch of severity. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a jim dandy goime, Ise tells youse. Like me to learn +youse?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied the girl, as she closed the book. +</p> + +<p> +“Goils never oin’t no good,” remarked Swot, discontentedly. +</p> + +<p> +Really irritated, Miss Durant rose and adjusted her boa. “Swot,” +she said, “you are the most ungrateful boy I ever knew, and I’m not +merely not going to read any more to-day, but I have a good + +mind not to come to-morrow, just to punish you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, chase youseself!” was the response. “Youse can’t +pass dat gold brick on me, well, I guess!” +</p> + +<p> +“What are you talking about?” indignantly asked Constance. +</p> + +<p> +“Tink Ise oin’t onter youse curves? Tink Ise don’t hear wot +de nurse loidies says? Gee! Ise know w’y youse so fond of comin’ +here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do I come here?” asked Constance, in a voice full of warning. +</p> + +<p> +The tone was wasted on the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“’Cause youse dead gone on de doc.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry you don’t know better than to talk like that, +Swot,” said the girl, quietly, “because I wanted to be good to you, +and now you have put an end to my being able to be. You will have to get some +one else to read to you after this. Good-bye.” She passed her hand kindly +over his forehead, and + +turned to find that Dr. Armstrong was standing close behind her, and must have +overheard more or less of what had been said. Without a word, and looking +straight before her, Constance walked away. +</p> + +<p> +Once out of the hospital, her conscience was not altogether easy; and though +she kept away the next day, she sent her footman with the usual gift of fruits +and other edibles; and this she did again on the morning following. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course he didn’t mean to be so atrociously impertinent,” +she sighed, in truth missing what had come to be such an amusing and novel way +of using up some of each twenty-four hours. “But I can’t, in +self-respect, go to him any more.” +</p> + +<p> +These explanations were confided to her double in the mirror, as she eyed the +effect of a new gown, donned for a dinner; and while she still studied the + +eminently satisfactory total, she was interrupted by a knock at the door, and +her maid brought her a card the footman handed in. +</p> + +<p> +Constance took it, looked astonished, then frowned slightly, and finally +glanced again in the mirror. Without a word, she took her gloves and fan from +the maid, and descended to the drawing-room. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-evening, Dr. Armstrong,” she said, coolly. +</p> + +<p> +“I have come here—I have intruded on you, Miss Durant,” +awkwardly and hurriedly began the doctor, “because nothing else would +satisfy Swot McGarrigle. I trust you will understand that I—He—he +is to undergo an operation, and—well, I told him it was impossible, but +he still begged me so to ask you, that I hadn’t the heart to refuse +him.” +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus04"></a> +<img src="images/image4.jpg" width="320" height="420" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“‘I have come here—I have intruded on you, +Miss Durant,’ hurriedly began the doctor”</p> +</div> + +<p> +“An operation!” cried Constance. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be alarmed. It’s really nothing serious. +He—Perhaps you may have noticed how restless and miserable he has been +lately. It is due, we have decided, to one of the nerves of the leg having been +lacerated, and so I am going to remove it, to end the suffering, which is now +pretty keen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’m so sorry,” exclaimed the girl, regretfully. “I +didn’t dream of it, and so was hard on him, and said I wouldn’t +come any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“He has missed your visits very much, Miss Durant, and we found it very +hard to comfort him each morning, when only your servant came.” +</p> + +<p> +“Has he really? I thought they were nothing to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you knew that class better, you would appreciate that they are really +grateful and warm-hearted, but they fear to show their feelings, and, besides, +could not express them, even if they had the + +words, which they don’t. But if you could hear the little chap sing your +praises to the nurses and to me, you would not think him heartless. ‘My +loidy’ is his favourite description of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“He wants to see me?” questioned the girl, eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Like most of the poorer class, Miss Durant,” explained the +doctor, “he has a great dread of the knife. To make him less frantic, I +promised that I would come to you with his wish; and though I would not for a +moment have you present at the actual operation, if you could yield so far as +to come to him for a few minutes, and assure him that we are going to do it for +his own good, I think it will make him more submissive.” +</p> + +<p> +“When do you want me?” asked Miss Durant. +</p> + +<p> +“It is—I am to operate as soon as I can get back to the hospital, +Miss Durant. + +It has been regrettably postponed as it is.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl stood hesitating for a moment. “But what am I to do about my +dinner?” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Armstrong’s eyes travelled over her from head to foot, taking in the +charming gown of satin and lace, the strings of pearls about her exquisite +throat and wrists, and all the other details which made up such a beautiful +picture. “I forgot,” he said, quietly, “that society duties +now take precedence over all others.” Then, with an instant change of +manner, he went on: “You do yourself an injustice, I think, Miss Durant, +in even questioning what you are going to do. You know you are coming to the +boy.” +</p> + +<p> +For the briefest instant the girl returned his intent look, trying to fathom +what enabled him to speak with such absolute surety; then she said, “Let +us + +lose no time,” as she turned back into the hall and hurried out of the +front door, not even attending to the doctor’s protest about her going +without a wrap; and she only said to him at the carriage door, “You will +drive with me, of course, Dr. Armstrong?” Then to the footman, +“Tell Murdock, the hospital, Maxwell, but you are to go at once to Mrs. +Purdy, and say I shall be prevented from coming to her to-night by a call that +was not to be disregarded,” +</p> + +<p> +“It was madness of you, Miss Durant, to come out without a cloak, and I +insist on your wearing this,” said the doctor, the moment the carriage +had started, as he removed his own overcoat. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I forgot—but I mustn’t take it from you, Dr. +Armstrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have no thought of me. I am twice as warmly clad as you, and am better +protected than usual.” +</p> + +<p> +Despite her protest he placed it about + +Constance’s shoulders and buttoned it up. “You know,” he +said, “the society girl with her bare throat and arms is at once the +marvel and the despair of us doctors, for every dinner or ball ought to have +its death-list from pneumonia; but it never—” +</p> + +<p> +“Will it be a very painful operation?” asked the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all; and the anaesthetic prevents consciousness. If Swot were a +little older, I should not have had to trouble you. It is a curious fact that +boys, as a rule, face operations more bravely than any other class of patient +we have.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder why that is?” queried Constance. +</p> + +<p> +“It is due to the same ambition which makes cigarette-smokers of +them—a desire to be thought manly.” +</p> + +<p> +Once the carriage reached the hospital, Constance followed the doctor up the + +stairs and through the corridor. “Let me relieve you of the coat, Miss +Durant,” he advised, and took it from her and passed it over to one of +the orderlies. Then, opening a door, he made way for her to enter. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a name="illus05"></a> +<img src="images/image5.jpg" width="320" height="466" alt="[Illustration: ]" /> +<p class="caption">“The two were quickly seated on the floot”</p> +</div> + +<p> +Constance passed into a medium-sized room, which a first glance showed her to +be completely lined with marble; but there her investigations ceased, for her +eyes rested on the glass table upon which lay the little fellow, while beside +him stood a young doctor and a nurse. At the sound of her footsteps the boy +turned his head till he caught sight of her, when, after an instant’s +stare, he surprised the girl by hiding his eyes and beginning to cry. +</p> + +<p> +“Ise knowed all along youse wuz goin’ to kill me,” he sobbed. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Swot,” cried Constance, going to his side. “Nobody is +going to kill you.” +</p> + +<p> +The hands were removed from the eyes, and still full of tears, they blinkingly +stared a moment at the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Hully gee! Is dat youse?” he ejaculated. “Ise tought youse +wuz de angel come for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may go many years in society, Miss Durant, without winning another +compliment so genuine,” remarked Dr. Armstrong, smiling. “Nor is it +surprising that he was misled,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +Constance smiled in return as she answered, “And it only proves how the +value of a compliment is not in its truthfulness, but in its being truth to the +one who speaks it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Say, youse won’t let dem do nuttin’ bad to me, will +youse?” implored the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“They are only going to help you, Swot,” the girl assured him, as +she took his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Den w’y do dey want to put me to sleep for?” +</p> + +<p> +“To spare you suffering,” +</p> + +<p> +“Dis oin’t no knock-out drops, or dat sorter goime? Honest?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I won’t let them do you any harm.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will youse watch dem all de time dey’s doin’ tings to +me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. And if you’ll be quiet and take it nicely, I’ll bring +you a present to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dat’s grand! Wot’ll youse guv me? Say, don’t do +dat,” he protested, as the nurse applied the sponge and cone to his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Lie still, Swot,” said Constance, soothingly, “and tell me +what you would best like me to give you. Shall it be a box of +building-blocks—or some soldiers—or a +fire-engine—or—” +</p> + +<p> +“Nah. Ise don’t want nuttin’ but one ting—an’ +dat’s—wot wuz Ise + +tinkin’—Ise forgits wot it wuz—lemme see—Wot’s de +matter? Wheer is youse all?—” The little frame relaxed and lay +quiet. +</p> + +<p> +“That is all you can do for us, Miss Durant,” said Dr. Armstrong. +</p> + +<p> +“May I not stay, as I promised him I would?” begged Constance. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you bear the sight of blood?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know—but see—I’ll turn my back.” +Suiting the action to the word, the girl faced so that, still holding +Swot’s hand, she was looking away from the injured leg. +</p> + +<p> +A succession of low-spoken orders to his assistants was the doctor’s way +of telling her that he left her to do as she chose, She stood quietly for a few +minutes, but presently her desire to know the progress of the operation, and +her anxiety over the outcome, proved too strong for her, and she turned her +head to take a furtive glance. She did not + +look away again, but with a strange mixture of fascination and squeamishness, +she watched as the bleeding was stanched with sponges, each artery tied, and +each muscle drawn aside, until finally the nerve was reached and removed; and +she could not but feel both wonder and admiration as she noted how Dr. +Armstrong’s hands, at other times seemingly so much in his way, now did +their work so skilfully and rapidly. Not till the operation was over, and the +resulting wound was being sprayed with antiseptics, did the girl realize how +cold and faint she felt, or how she was trembling. Dropping the hand of the +boy, she caught at the operating-table, and then the room turned black. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s really nothing,” she asserted. “I only felt dizzy +for an instant. Why! Where am I?” +</p> + +<p> +“You fainted away, Miss Durant, and we brought you here,” explained +the + +nurse, once again applying the salts. The woman rose and went to the door. +“She is conscious now, Dr. Armstrong.” +</p> + +<p> +As the doctor entered Constance tried to rise, but a motion of his hand checked +her. “Sit still a little yet, Miss Durant,” he ordered +peremptorily. From a cupboard he produced a plate of crackers and a glass of +milk, and brought them to her. +</p> + +<p> +“I really don’t want anything,” declared the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“You are to eat something at once,” insisted Dr. Armstrong, in a +very domineering manner. +</p> + +<p> +He held the glass to her lips, and Constance, after a look at his face, took a +swallow of the milk, and then a piece of cracker he broke off. +</p> + +<p> +“How silly of me to behave so,” she said, as she munched. +</p> + +<p> +“The folly was mine in letting you + +stay in the room when you had had no dinner. That was enough to knock up any +one,” answered the doctor. “Here.” Once again the glass was +held to her lips, and once again, after a look at his face, Constance drank, +and then accepted a second bit of cracker from his fingers. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you keep these especially for faint-minded women?” she asked, +trying to make a joke of the incident. +</p> + +<p> +“This is my particular sanctum, Miss Durant; and as I have a +reprehensible habit of night-work, I keep them as a kind of sleeping +potion.” +</p> + +<p> +Constance glanced about the room with more interest, and as she noticed the +simplicity and the bareness, Swot’s remark concerning the doctor’s +poverty came back to her. Only many books and innumerable glass bottles, a +microscope, and other still more mysterious instruments, seemed to save it from +the + +tenement-house, if not, indeed, the prison, aspect. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you wondering how it is possible for any one to live in such a +way?” asked the doctor, as his eyes followed hers about the room. +</p> + +<p> +“If you will have my thought,” answered Constance, “it was +that I am in the cave of the modern hermit, who, instead of seeking solitude, +because of the sins of mankind, seeks it that he may do them good.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have each had a compliment to-night,” replied Dr. Armstrong, +his face lighting up. +</p> + +<p> +The look in his eyes brought something into the girl’s thoughts, and with +a slight effort she rose. “I think I am well enough now to relieve you of +my intrusion,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“You will not be allowed to leave the hermit’s cell till you have +finished the cracker and the milk,” affirmed the man. + +“I only regret that I can’t keep up the character by offering you +locusts and wild honey.” +</p> + +<p> +“At least don’t think it necessary to stay here with me,” +said Miss Durant, as she dutifully began to eat and drink again. +“If—oh—the operation—How is Swot?” +</p> + +<p> +“Back in the ward, though not yet conscious.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the operation?” +</p> + +<p> +“Absolutely successful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Despite my interruption?” +</p> + +<p> +“Another marvel to us M.D.’s is the way so sensitive a thing as a +woman will hold herself in hand by sheer nerve force when it is necessary. You +did not faint till the operation was completed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now may I go?” asked the girl, with a touch of archness, as she +held up the glass and the plate, both empty. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, if you will let me share your carriage. Having led you into this +predicament, + +the least I feel I can do is to see you safely out of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now the hermit is metamorphosing himself into a knight,” laughed +Constance, merrily, “with a distressed damsel on his hands. I really need +not put you to the trouble, but I shall be glad if you will take me +home.” +</p> + +<p> +Once again the doctor put his overcoat about her, and they descended the stairs +and entered the brougham. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me the purpose of all those instruments I saw in your room,” +she asked as they started. +</p> + +<p> +“They are principally for the investigation of bacteria. Not being +ambitious to spend my life doctoring whooping-cough and indigestion, I am +striving to make a scientist of myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then that is why you prefer hospital work?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I happen to have been born + +with my own living to make in the world, and when I had worked my way through +the medical school, I only too gladly became ‘Interne’ here, not +because it is what I wish to do, but because I need the salary.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet it seems such a noble work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t think I depreciate it, but what I am doing is only remedial +What I hope to do is to prevent.” +</p> + +<p> +“How is it possible?” +</p> + +<p> +“For four years my every free hour has been given to studying what is now +called tuberculosis, and my dream is to demonstrate that it is in fact the +parent disease—a breaking down—disintegration—of the bodily +substance—the tissue, or cell—and to give to the world a +specific.” +</p> + +<p> +“How splendid!” exclaimed Constance. “And you believe you +can?” +</p> + +<p> +“Every day makes me more sure that both demonstration and specific are +possible + +—but it is unlikely that I shall be the one to do it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not see why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because there are many others studying the disease who are free from the +necessity of supporting themselves, and so can give far more time and money to +the investigation than is possible for me. Even the scientist must be rich in +these days, Miss Durant, if he is to win the great prizes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t you tell me something about yourself?” requested +Constance, impulsively. +</p> + +<p> +“There really is nothing worth while yet. I was left an orphan young, in +the care of an uncle who was able to do no better for me than to get me a place +in a drug-store. By doing the night-work it was possible to take the course at +the medical college; and as I made a good record, this position was offered to +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“It—you could make it interesting if you tried.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid I am not a realist, Miss Durant. I dream of a future +that shall be famous by the misery and death I save the world from, but my past +is absolutely eventless.” +</p> + +<p> +As he ended, the carriage drew up at the house, and the doctor helped her out. +</p> + +<p> +“You will take Dr. Armstrong back to the hospital, Murdock,” she +ordered. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, but I really prefer a walk before going to <i>my</i> social +intimates, the bacilli,” answered the doctor, as he went up the steps +with her. Then, after he had rung the bell, he held out his hand and said: +“Miss Durant, I need scarcely say, after what I have just told you, that +my social training has been slight—so slight that I was quite unaware +that the old adage, ‘Even a cat may look at a king,’ was no longer +a fact until I overheard + +what was said the other day. My last wish is to keep you from coming to the +hospital, and in expressing my regret at having been the cause of embarrassment +to you, I wish to add a pledge that henceforth, if you will resume your visits, +you and Swot shall be free from my intrusion. Good-night,” he ended, as +he started down the steps. +</p> + +<p> +“But I never—really I have no right to exclude—nor do I +wish—” protested the girl; and then, as the servant opened the +front door, even this halting attempt at an explanation ceased. She echoed a +“Good-night,” adding, “and thank you for all your +kindness,” and very much startled and disturbed the footman, as she +passed into the hallway, by audibly remarking, “Idiot!” +</p> + +<p> +She went upstairs slowly, as if thinking, and once in her room, seated herself +at her desk and commenced a note. Before she had written a page she tore the + +paper in two and began anew. Twice she repeated this proceeding; then rose in +evident irritation, and, walking to her fire, stood looking down into the +flame. “I’ll think out what I had better do when I’m not so +tired,” she finally remarked, as she rang for her maid. But once in bed, +her thoughts, or the previous strain, kept her long hours awake; and when at +last she dropped into unconsciousness her slumber was made miserable by dreams +mixing in utter confusion operating-room and dinner, guests and +microbes—dreams in which she was alternately striving to explain +something to Dr. Armstrong, who could not be brought to understand, or to +conceal something he was determined to discover. Finally she found herself +stretched on the dinner-table, the doctor, knife in hand, standing over her, +with the avowed intention of opening her heart to learn some secret, and it was +her helpless protests + +and struggles which brought consciousness to her—to discover that she had +slept far into the morning. +</p> + +<p> +With the one thought of a visit to the hospital during the permitted hours, she +made a hasty toilet, followed by an equally speedy breakfast, and was actually +on her way downstairs when she recalled her promise of a gift. A glance at her +watch told her that there was not time to go to the shops, and hurrying back to +her room, she glanced around for something among the knick-knacks scattered +about. Finding nothing that she could conceive of as bringing pleasure to the +waif, she took from a drawer of her desk a photograph of herself, and descended +to the carriage. +</p> + +<p> +She had reason to be thankful for her recollection, as, once her greetings, and +questions to the nurse about the patient’s condition were made, Swot +demanded, +</p> + +<p> +“Wheer’s dat present dat youse promised me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not have time this morning to get something especially for +you,” she explained, handing him the portrait, “so for want of +anything better, I’ve brought you my picture.” +</p> + +<p> +The urchin took the gift and looked at both sides. “Wotinell’s dat +good for?” he demanded contemptuously. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought—hoped it might please you, as showing you that I had +forgiven—that I liked you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, git on de floor an’ look at youseself,” disgustedly +remarked Swot. “Dat talk don’t cut no ice wid me. W’y +didn’t youse ask wot Ise wants?” +</p> + +<p> +“And what would you like?” +</p> + +<p> +“Will youse guv me a pistol?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, what would you do with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d trow a scare into de big newsies w’en dey starts to +chase me off de good beats.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Swot, I don’t think I ought to give you anything so +dangerous. You are very young to—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Youse a goil, an’ deyse born frightened. Bet youse life, if +youse ask de doc, he won’t tink it nuttin’ to be scared of.” +</p> + +<p> +“He isn’t here this morning,” remarked Constance, for some +reason looking fixedly at the glove she was removing as she spoke. +</p> + +<p> +The urchin raised his head and peered about. “Dat’s funny!” +he exclaimed. “It’s de first time he oin’t bin here +w’en youse wuz at de bat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Has he seen you this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, cert!” +</p> + +<p> +The girl opened the dime novel and found the page at which the interruption had +occurred, hesitated an instant, and remarked, “The next time he comes you +might say that I would like to see him for a moment—to ask if I had +better give + +you a pistol.” This said, she hastily began on the book. Thrillingly as +the pursuits and pursuit of the criminal classes were pictured, however, there +came several breaks in the reading; and had any keenly observant person been +watching Miss Durant, he would have noticed that these pauses invariably +happened whenever some one entered the ward. +</p> + +<p> +It was made evident to her that she and Swot gave value to entirely different +parts of her message to the doctor; for, no sooner did she reach the +waif’s bedside the next morning than the invalid announced,— +</p> + +<p> +“Say, Ise done my best to jolly de doc, but he stuck to it dat youse +oughtn’t to guv me no pistol.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you tell him what I asked you to say?” demanded +Constance, anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Soytenly. Ise says to ’im dat youse wanted to know wot he tought, +an’ he + +went back on me. Ise didn’t tink he’d trun me down like dat!” +</p> + +<p> +“I might better have written him,” murmured Miss Durant, +thoughtfully. She sat for some time silently pondering, till the waif +asked,— +</p> + +<p> +“Say, youse goin’ to guv me dat present just de same, oin’t +youse?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’ll give you a present,” acceded the girl, opening the +book. “I think, Swot,” she continued, “that we’ll have +to trouble Dr. Armstrong for another Old Sleuth, as we shall probably finish +this to-day. And tell him this time it is my turn to pay for it,” From +her purse she produced a dime, started to give it to the boy, hastily drew back +her hand, and replacing the coin, substituted for it a dollar bill. Then she +began reading rapidly—so rapidly that the end of the story was attained +some twenty minutes before the visitors’ time had expired. +</p> + +<p> +“Say,” was her greeting on the following day, as Swot held up +another lurid-looking tale and the dollar bill, “Ise told de doc youse +wuzn’t willin’ dat he, bein’ poor, should bleed de cash dis +time, an’ dat youse guv me dis to—” +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t put it that way, Swot?” demanded Miss Durant. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot way?” +</p> + +<p> +“That I said he was poor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Soytenly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Swot, how could you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wot’s de matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“I never said that! Was he—was he—What did he say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nuttin’ much, ’cept dat I wuz to guv youse back de dough, +for de books wuz on ’im.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid you have pained him, Swot, and you certainly have +pained me. Did he seem hurt or offended?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nop.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you would tell him I shall be greatly obliged if he will come to +the ward to-morrow, for I wish to see him. Now don’t alter this message, +please, Swot.” +</p> + +<p> +That her Mercury did her bidding more effectively was proved by her finding the +doctor at the bedside when she arrived the next day. +</p> + +<p> +“Swot told me that you wished to see me, Miss Durant,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and I’m very much obliged to you for waiting. I—How +soon will it be possible for him to be up?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is doing so famously that we’ll have him out of bed by Monday, +I hope.” +</p> + +<p> +“I promised him a present, and I want to have a Christmas tree for him, +if he can come to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wot’s dat?” came the quick question from the bed. +</p> + +<p> +“If you don’t know, I’m going to let it be a surprise to you, +Swot. Do you think he will be well enough to come to my house? Of course +I’ll send my carriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“If he continues to improve, he certainly will be.” +</p> + +<p> +“Say, is dat de ting dey has for de mugs wot goes to Sunday-school, +an’ dat dey has a party for?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, only this tree will be only for you, Swot,” +</p> + +<p> +“Youse oin’t goin’ to have no udder swipes but me?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Den who’ll git all de presents wot’s on de tree?” +inquired Swot, suggestively. +</p> + +<p> +“Guess!” laughed Constance. +</p> + +<p> +“Will dey all be for me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hully gee! But dat’s grand! Ise in it up to de limit, doc, +oin’t Ise?” exclaimed the waif, turning to the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Armstrong smiled and nodded his head, but something in his face or manner +seemed to give a change to the boy’s thoughts, for, after eyeing him +intently, he said to Constance,— +</p> + +<p> +“Oin’t youse goin’ to invite de doc?” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Durant coloured as she said, with a touch of eagerness yet shyness, +“Dr. Armstrong, I intended to ask you, and it will give me a great deal +of pleasure if you will come to Swot’s and my festival.” And when +the doctor seemed to hesitate, she added, “Please!” in a way that +would have very much surprised any man of her own circle. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Miss Durant; I’ll gladly come, if you are sure I +sha’n’t be an interloper.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all,” responded the girl. “On the contrary, it would +be sadly incomplete without you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Say,” broke in the youngster, “growed-up folks don’t +git tings off de tree, does dey?” +</p> + +<p> +Both Constance and the doctor laughed at the obvious fear in the boy’s +mind. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Swot,” the man replied; “and I’ve had my Christmas +gift from Miss Durant already.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wot wuz dat?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ask her,” replied Dr. Armstrong, as he walked away. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot have youse guv ’im?” +</p> + +<p> +Constance laughed, and blushed still more deeply, as, after a slight pause, she +replied, “It’s my turn, Swot, to say ‘rubber’?” +This said, she stooped impulsively and kissed the boy’s forehead. +“You are a dear, Swot,” she asserted, warmly. +</p> + +<p> +With the mooting of the Christmas tree, the interest in Old Sleuth markedly +declined, being succeeded by innumerable + +surmises of the rapidly convalescing boy as to the probable nature and number +of the gifts it would bear. In this he was not discouraged by Miss Durant, who, +once the readings were discontinued, brought a bit of fancy-work for +occupation. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot’s dat?” he inquired, the first time she produced it. +</p> + +<p> +“A case for handkerchiefs.” +</p> + +<p> +“For me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever have a handkerchief?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nop. An’ I’d radder have suttin’ else.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you keep a secret, Swot?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bet youse life.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is for Dr. Armstrong.” +</p> + +<p> +Swot regarded it with new interest. “Youse goin’ to s’prise +’im?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Den youse must sneak it quick w’en he comes in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t you noticed that he doesn’t come here any longer, +Swot?” quietly responded the girl, her head bowed over the work. +</p> + +<p> +“Oin’t dat luck!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” asked Constance, looking up in surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“’Cause youse can work on de present,” explained Swot. +“Say,” he demanded after a pause, “if dere’s anyting on +de tree dat Ise don’t cares for, can Ise give it to de doc?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly. Or better still, if you’ll find out what he would like, +I’ll let you make him a present.” +</p> + +<p> +“Youse payin’ for it?” anxiously questioned the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dat’s Jim Dandy!” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Durant recurred to this offer twice in the succeeding week, but to her +surprise, found Swot’s apparent enthusiasm over the gift had + +entirely cooled, and his one object was a seeming desire to avoid all +discussion of it. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you want to give him something, or haven’t you found +out what he wants?” she was driven to ask. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, dat’s all right. Don’t youse tire youself ’bout +dat,” was his mysterious reply. Nor could she extract anything more +satisfactory. +</p> + +<p> +It was a very different Swot McGarrigle who was helped into Miss Durant’s +carriage by the doctor on Christmas eve from the one who had been lifted out at +the hospital some six weeks before. The wizened face had filled out into +roundness, and the long-promised new clothes, donned for the first time in +honor of the event, even more transformed him; so changed him, in fact, that +Constance hesitated for an instant in her welcome, in doubt if it were he. +</p> + +<p> +“I have the tree in my own room, because I wanted all the fun to +ourselves,” she explained, as she led the way upstairs, “and +downstairs we should almost certainly be interrupted by callers, or something. +But before you go, Dr. Armstrong, I want you to meet my family, and of course +they all want to see Swot.” +</p> + +<p> +It was not a large nor particularly brilliant tree, but to Swot it was +everything that was beautiful. At first he was afraid to approach, but after a +little Constance persuaded him into a walk around it, and finally tempted him, +by an artful mention of what was in one of the larger packages at the base, to +treat it more familiarly. Once the ice was broken, the two were quickly seated +on the floor, Constance cutting strings, and Swot giving shouts of delight at +each new treasure. Presently, in especial joy over some prize, the boy turned +to show + +it to the doctor, to discover that he was standing well back, watching, rather +than sharing, in the pleasure of the two; and, as the little chap discovered +the aloofness, he leaned over and whispered something to the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to, but can’t get the courage yet,” whispered back +Constance. “I don’t know what is the matter with me, Swot,” +she added, blushing. +</p> + +<p> +“Like me to guv it to ’im?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, will you, Swot?” she eagerly demanded. “It’s the +parcel in tissue-paper on my desk over there.” +</p> + +<p> +The waif rose to his feet and trotted to the place indicated. He gave a quick +glance back at Miss Durant, and seeing that she was leaning over a bundle, he +softly unfolded the tissue-paper, slipped something from his newly possessed +breast pocket into the handkerchief-case, and refolded the paper. He crossed +the room to where the doctor was standing, + +and handed him the parcel, with the remark, “Dat’s for youse, from +Miss Constance an’ me, doc.” Then scurrying back to the side of the +girl, he confided to her, “Ise guv de doc a present, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was it?” asked Constance, still not looking up. +</p> + +<p> +“Go an’ ask ’im,” chuckled Swot. +</p> + +<p> +Turned away as she might be, she was not unconscious of the doctor’s +movements, and she was somewhat puzzled when, instead of coming to her with +thanks, he crossed the room to a bay-window, where he was hidden by the tree +from both of them. From that point he still further astonished her by the +request,— +</p> + +<p> +“Can you—will you please come here for a moment, Miss +Durant?” +</p> + +<p> +Constance rose and walked to where he stood. “I hope you like my +gift?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“You could have given me nothing I have so wanted—nothing I shall +treasure more,” said the man, speaking low and fervently. “But did +you realise what this would mean to me?” As he spoke, he raised his hand, +and Constance saw, not the handkerchief-case, but a photograph of herself. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she gasped. “Where—I didn’t—that was +a picture I gave to Swot. The case is my gift,” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor’s hand dropped, and all the hope and fire went from his eyes. +“I beg your pardon for being so foolish, Miss Durant. I—I lost my +senses for a moment—or I would have known that you never—that the +other was your gift.” He stooped to pick it up from the floor where he +had dropped it. “Thank you very deeply for your kindness, and—and +try to forget my folly.” +</p> + +<p> +“I—I—couldn’t understand why Swot suddenly—why +he—I never dreamed of his doing it,” faltered the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“His and my knowledge of social conventions are about on a par,” +responded the man, with a set look to his mouth. “Shall I give it back to +him or to you?” +</p> + +<p> +Constance drew a deep breath. “It +wasn’t—my—gift—but—but—I don’t mind +your keeping it if you wish.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean—?” cried Dr. Armstrong, incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” said the girl, hurriedly, “isn’t that enough, +now? Please, oh, please—wait—for a little.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor caught her hand and kissed it. “Till death, if you ask +it!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Five minutes later Swot abstracted himself sufficiently from his gifts to + +peep around the tree and ecstatically inquire,— +</p> + +<p> +“Say, oin’t dis de doisiest Christmas dat ever wuz?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” echoed the two in the bay-window. +</p> + +<p> +“Did youse like me present, doc?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” reiterated the doctor, with something in his voice that gave +the word tenfold meaning. +</p> + +<p> +“Ise tought youse ’ud freeze to it, an’ it wuzn’t no +sorter good to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Constance laughed happily. “Still, I’m very glad I gave it to you, +Swot,” she said, with a glance of the eyes, half shy and half arch, at +the man beside her. +</p> + +<p> +“Did youse like Miss Constance’s present too, doc?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied the doctor, “especially the one you +haven’t seen, Swot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wot wuz dat?” +</p> + +<p> +“A something called hope—which is the finest thing in the +world.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. There is one thing better,” said Miss Durant. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Love!” whispered Constance, softly. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14211 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + diff --git a/14211-h/images/cover.jpg b/14211-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ea2a1b --- /dev/null +++ b/14211-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/14211-h/images/image1.jpg b/14211-h/images/image1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6bf6d7 --- /dev/null +++ b/14211-h/images/image1.jpg diff --git a/14211-h/images/image2.jpg b/14211-h/images/image2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4a5df9f --- /dev/null +++ b/14211-h/images/image2.jpg diff --git a/14211-h/images/image3.jpg b/14211-h/images/image3.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d28d7b --- /dev/null +++ b/14211-h/images/image3.jpg diff --git a/14211-h/images/image4.jpg b/14211-h/images/image4.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c281bf --- /dev/null +++ b/14211-h/images/image4.jpg diff --git a/14211-h/images/image5.jpg b/14211-h/images/image5.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f69854d --- /dev/null +++ b/14211-h/images/image5.jpg |
