by W. S. Lewis
VIII
The following Thursday night Tom called at the Whitmans' to rehearse thelecture. Nancy's cousin Bob had arranged to have two rooms reserved forthem during the Friday noon hour at the Mills, and they had agreed thatthe best way to prepare for the ordeal was to study their notes and gettheir material in final shape and then have a dress rehearsal onThursday night. "After a while," Nancy had said, "when we work into theharness, we probably won't need to have one, but I don't think we can betoo careful of this first lecture." This had been precisely Tom'sopinion also.
Tom had never seen Henry so amiable. In fact he seemed hard put to it tokeep from unrestrained merriment, and Tom, who found the affair morealarming as it progressed, would have preferred avoiding him altogether.He knew that Henry was calling him callow, a lightweight, chargeswell-nigh proved by his present undertaking, and to save himself fromrout he had to remember that Henry was a heavy Grave man and that hisown participation was only a question of common courtesy to a lady,anyway. Nancy had set her heart upon the thing, and he would be a veryindifferent friend to stand idly by and not lift a finger to help.
"I believe," said Henry, "that we are to sit in the drawing-room. Nancywill stand in the far end of the library."
"I see," replied Tom vaguely.
"She feels that having the conditions rather trying tonight will helpher tomorrow. Accordingly, she's going to speak first, and she wants meto excuse her for not being here when you arrived. By coming in formallyand beginning her address without speaking to us, she hopes to get someof the feeling of the way it will be tomorrow." And with a somewhathysterical noise he went to the stairway. "All right, Nancy."
In a minute Nancy appeared on the stairs and, walking stiffly acrossinto the library, she climbed upon a footstool at the far end. In frontof her was an old violin stand. Upon it she put her notes. She thenraised her face; and even at the distance it appeared flushed.
"Fellow workers," she began.
At this point Henry broke into uncontrollable laughter. "Excuse me,really, but it is too much. 'Fellow workers'--oh, dear me. Oh, oh, I amafraid I can't stand it. You must excuse me, really. Oh, dear me," andrising weakly, handkerchief in hand, he tottered from the room.
Nancy, the picture of resigned despair, gazed at Tom. He felt slightlyhysterical himself.
"What are we to do?" she asked helplessly. As they were nearly fiftyfeet apart, the pitch of her voice was necessarily above that used inordinary conversation and gave to her words considerable melodramaticforce. A fresh shout of laughter descending from the stairs made thesituation none the easier.
Nancy was, indeed, thoroughly upset. What was to become of herindependent life if this failed? How else could she express herself? Wasit to collapse at the very start, before she could even approach herdreams for the future? To have it end ridiculously, to have her become alaughing stock, would be too cruel. No, she would fight for her liberty.
"Why, the thing to do is to go on," replied Tom. Had those words beensaid at Marengo or Poitiers or Persepolis, they might today be learnedby school children. They were of the stuff that wins lost causes. Theystem defeat as effectively as fresh battalions.
"Fellow workers," Nancy began again, and this time there was onlyrespectful silence, "I have come to you today to tell you a littlesomething about the machines which are forever your property, which weregiven to you by your Maker and which it is your sacred duty to keep inas good condition as possible. I mean your own bodies." She paused, andTom nodded encouragement from the other room. "It has become my pleasantduty to come to you and tell you how you may keep these God-givenmachines. You are to regard me, in other words, as your friend andsister." The lecturer was here threatened by a dry, pippy, cough andthe whole course was imperilled. However, she drove fiercely on.
"At the outset you should have a brief working knowledge of such thingsas your heart and lungs, your pancreas, liver, big and little intestinesand their juices; and I shall, accordingly, give you a brief idea of thevarious systems, beginning today with the circulatory and respiratory.Next time I shall hope to cover the digestive and excretory tracts, andI shall close with two talks on personal hygiene." This ended thepreliminary matter, and the lecturer proceeded with the body of her talkin a somewhat more mechanical style. The respiratory system wasdismissed in six minutes, although, in some curious way, Mr. Sprig hadstrung the same material out to half an hour.
Before beginning upon the circulatory system, however, she sprang asurprise. "For your convenience," she explained, "I shall draw a diagramof the heart and its valves, and with your assistance I shall explainits action." After a little wrestling with the diagram, which _would_curl, she managed to pin it to the wall. She then proceeded, in redcrayon, to draw a fully equipped heart. She finished with audible reliefand, turning triumphantly--greeted Miss Balch and her brother Leofwin.
"Dear me, I am afraid we are intruding," said Miss Balch, looking aroundwith ingenuous charm.
Henry, having heard the bell which the social workers had been tooabsorbed to hear, appeared at the door and relieved the situationtemporarily. Leofwin, however, whose eye was naturally caught by thepictorial, was gazing at the circulatory system on the wall. "What onearth is that?" he asked, with more curiosity than was perhapsexcusable. "It looks for all the world like some sort of impressionisticvalentine."
Nancy, for one reckless moment, was tempted to say that it was, buttemperate judgment prevailed. After all, why need she be ashamed of whatthey were doing?
"Tom and I are giving a course of lectures at the Mill, in hygiene, andwe are just rehearsing a little; that's all. The valentine shows theheart action. Those arm things are the valves, you see."
"But, really, you know, even a valve must have some perspective."
"Well, of course, I'm no artist. The cut in the dictionary was verysmall, and when I enlarged it I tried to get the right proportions, butI just had my tape measure and----"
"I shall help you. Elfrida will bear me out: I have always beeninterested in the lower classes, and I shall love to go with you anddraw it when the time comes."
"Oh, I couldn't let you do that."
"Why not? I admit I've had no experience, but, after all, in a work ofthis kind, it is the spirit that counts, isn't it?"
Elfrida had engaged Tom and Henry at a point as far distant as she couldfrom her brother and Nancy, and she now asked Tom what he thought ofSomebody's latest novel and made him lose track of their conversation.
"Are you _really_ a realist?" asked Miss Balch.
"No, I don't think I am."
"Fancy," replied Miss Balch. "Then I think you would like a thing I gotout of the library the other day by one of these new Russians. He hassome dreadful name. Well, it is about this man, a peasant, who falls inlove with this Bolshevist agent, and she uses the man, you see, as atool. Then there is this other woman in it who----"
Leofwin had adopted a very free-and-easy manner, it seemed to Tom.He was sitting with his legs crossed, hands folded, one arm overthe back of his chair, half facing Nancy. He was being extremelybland and at his ease. It was the sort of thing one might do ina Russian drawing-room, perhaps, where the ladies doubtless didn'tmind being bitten in a fit of passion, but it was decidedly not theway to behave in Woodbridge--although it must be confessed that animpartial observer might have failed to distinguish any markeddifference in the way Tom himself was sitting, since he, too, hadcrossed his legs, folded his hands, and was half facing Nancy. Itwas clear that Nancy was painfully trying to do the honours. "Youmust let me see your pictures," Tom heard her say.
"... Really, Mr. Reynolds, I think you might listen to me when I'mtrying so hard to entertain you."
"Why, I heard everything you said. All about this new Russian."
"Sly boots!" said Miss Balch archly.
Tom wondered what the proper reply was. What he wanted to say, in thesame arch manner was "Puss Wuss!" but instead he just grinned brightlyand let it be inferred that he was thinking of all sorts of c
leverthings.
"A penny for your thoughts, sir," cried Miss Balch.
This was unbearable, especially since Henry was apparently enjoying itso much.
"I hope you won't think me rude, but I was thinking of the great pile ofuncorrected test papers at home on my desk, and I am afraid you willhave to excuse me." He rose. The whole room rose.
He started for the door, and Nancy hurried over to him. "Isn't itdreadful?" she seemed to say. Behind her, like Tartarin's camel, loomedLeofwin.
"We'll meet here at twelve," Nancy said, and with an effort she managedto include the cavalier and irrepressible artist, who, beaming andbowing, showed in every corner of him his thorough approval of the wholearrangement.