by Ruth Sawyer
Chapter III
THE CHANGELING
He arrived in the arms of his mother, the mulatto nurse having in someinexplicable and inconsiderate fashion acquired measles on the ship comingfrom their small South American republic. Francisco Enrique Manuel Machadoy Rodriguez--Pancho, for short--and his mother were allowed to disembarkonly because of his appalling lack of health and her promise to takeharborage in a hospital instead of a hotel.
Having heard of the sanitarium from her sister-in-law's brother's wife'saunt, who had been there herself, and having traveled already over athousand miles, the additional hundred or so seemed too trivial to botherabout. So the senora kept her promise to the officials by buying herticket thitherward, and Flanders, the bus-driver, arrived just in time tosee three porters unload them and their luggage on the small stationplatform. The senora was weeping bitterly, the powder spattered andsmeared all over her pretty, shallow little face; Pancho was clawing andscratching the air, while he shrieked at the top of his lungs--the onlypart of him that gave any evidence of strength.
Having disposed of the luggage, Flanders hurried back to the assistance ofthe senora, whereupon the brown atom clawed him instead of the air andfortissimoed his shrieking. Flanders promptly returned him to his mother,backing away to the bus and muttering something about "letting wildcat'scubs be."
"Wil'cat?" repeated the senora through her sobs. "I don't know what eeswil'cat. I theenk eet ees one leetle deevil. Tsa, Panchito! Ciera laboca." And she shook him.
During the drive to the sanitarium Flanders cast periodic glances within.Each time he looked the atom appeared to be shrieking louder, while hismother was shaking harder and longer. By the time they had reached theirdestination the breath had been shaken quite out of him. He lay backpanting in his mother's arms, with only strength enough for a feeble andoccasional snarl. His bonnet of lace and cerise-pink ribbon had comeuntied and had slipped from his head, disclosing a mass of black haircurled by nature and matted by neglect. It gave the last uncanny touch tothe brown atom's appearance and caused Hennessy, who was sweeping thecrossing, to drop his broom and stare agape at the new arrivals.
"Faith, is it one o' them Brazilian monkeys?" he whispered, pullingFlanders by the sleeve. "I've heard the women are makin' pets o' them,although I never heard they were after fixin' them up wi' lace an' ribbonslike that."
"It's a kid." Flanders stated the fact without any degree of positivenessas he rubbed three fingers cautiously down his cheek. He was feeling forscars. "Guess it's a kid all right, but it scratches like a cat, gosh durnit!"
Hennessy, however, shook a positive head. "That's no kid. Can't ye see foryourself it's noways human? Accordin' to the Sunday papers it's all thestyle for blond dancers an' society belles to be fetchin' one o' themlittle apes about. They're thinkin' if they hang a bit o' live uglinessfurninst, their beauty will look all the more ravishin'."
"Live ugliness," repeated Flanders; then he laughed. "You've struck it,Hennessy."
Meanwhile Francisco Enrique Manuel Machado y Rodriguez--Pancho, forshort--and his mother had passed into the hands of the sanitarium porter.He had handed them on to the business office, which in turn had handedthem over to the superintendent. The superintendent had shared thepleasure with the house staff, the staff had retired in favor of the babyspecialist, and at half past seven o'clock that night neither he nor thesuperintendent of nurses had been able to coax, argue, command, orthreaten a nurse into taking the case.
"I'm afraid you will have to do with an undergraduate and make the best ofit." Miss Maxwell acknowledged her helplessness with a faint smile.
But Doctor Fuller shook his head. "Won't do. It means skilled care andwatching for days. A nurse without experience would be about as much goodas an incubator. Think if you dismissed the four who've refused, you couldfrighten a fifth into taking it?"
This time the superintendent of nurses shook her head. "Not this case.They all feel about it the same way. Miss Jacobs tells me she didn't takeher training to nurse monkeys."
The old doctor chuckled. "Don't know as I blame her; thought it was a newspecies myself when I first clapped eyes on it. But shucks! I've seen someof our North American babies look like Lincoln Imps when they were downwith marasmus. Give me a few weeks and a good nurse and his own motherwouldn't recognize--" He interrupted himself with a pounding fist on thedesk. "Where's Leerie?"
"You can't have her--not this time." Miss Maxwell's lips became a fractionmore firm, while her eyes sharpened into what her training girls had cometo call her "forceps expression."
"Why not?"
"The girl's just off that case for Doctor Fritz; she's tired out. Remembershe's been through three unbroken years of hospitals, and we've worked heron every hard case we've had since she came back. I'm going to see thatshe gets forty-eight hours of rest now."
"Let her have them next time." Doctor Fuller put all his persuasive charminto the words. "I need Leerie--some one who can roll up her sleeves andpitch in. Let me have her just this once."
But Miss Maxwell was obdurate. "She's asleep now, and she's going to sleepas long as she needs to. I'll give you Miss Grant--she's had a month atthe Maternity at Rochester."
"A month!" Scorn curled up the ends of the doctor's mustache. The nextinstant they were almost touching in a broad grin. "Leerie likes caseslike this--just eats them up. I'm going after her." And before thesuperintendent of nurses could hold him he was down the corridor on hisway to the nurses' dormitory.
Ten minutes later he was back, grinning harder than ever. He had only timeto thrust his head in the door and wave a triumphant arm. "She'sdressing--as big a fool about babies as I am! Said she'd slept a wholehour and felt fresh as a daisy. How's that for spunk?"
"I call it nerve." Miss Maxwell smiled a hopeless smile. "What am I goingto do with you doctors? You wear out all my best nurses and you won'ttake--" But Doctor Fuller had fled.
In spite of his boast of her, the baby specialist saw Sheila O'Learyvisibly cringe when she took her first look at Pancho. He lay sprawling onhis mother's bed in a room littered with hastily opened bags and trunksout of which had been pulled clothing of all kinds and hues. He had beenrelieved of the lace and pink ribbons and was swathed only in shirt androundabout, his arms and legs projected like licorice sticks; being of thesame color and very nearly the same thickness. He was dozing, tired outwith the combination of much travel, screaming, shaking, and loss ofbreath. So wasted was he that the skin seemed drawn tight over temple andcheek-bones; the eyes were pitifully sunken, and colorless lips fell backover toothless gums.
"How old is--it?" Sheila whispered at last.
"About nine months."
Sheila shuddered. "Just the adorable age. Ought to be all pink cheeks,dimples, and creases--and look at it!"
"I know, but wait. Give us time and we'll get some of those thingsstarted." Doctor Fuller wagged his head by way of encouragement.
Sheila answered with a deprecatory shake. "This time I don't believe you.That would be a miracle, and you can do about everything but miracles.Honestly, it doesn't seem as if I could touch it; looks about a thousandyears old and just human enough to be horrible."
The old doctor eyed her askance. "Not going back on me, are you?"
"Of course I'm not, but there's no use in making believe it will be anyjoy-game. I'll be hating it every minute I'm on the case."
"Hate it as much as you like, only stick to it. Hello there, bub!" This tothe brown atom, who was opening his eyes.
The eyes were large and brown and as soft and appealing as a baby seal's.For a moment they looked with strange, wondering intensity at the twofigures bending over it, then with sudden doubling and undoubling offists, a frantic upheaval of brown legs, the atom opened volcanically andpoured forth scream after scream. It writhed, it clawed the air, itlooked every whit as horrible as Sheila had claimed.
"Going to run?" the old doctor asked, anxiously.
For answer Sheila bent down lower and picked up the writhing
mass. With afirm hand she braced it against her shoulder, patting it gently andswaying her body rhythmically to the patting. "Some eyes and some temper!"laughed Sheila. "Where's the mother?"
The screaming brought the corridor nurse to the door. "Where's themother?" Sheila repeated.
The corridor nurse pointed to the strewn luggage and gave a contemptuousshrug. "Gone down to dinner looking like a bird of paradise. She said ifthe baby cried I was to stir up some of that milk from that can, mix itwith water from that faucet, put it in that bottle, and feed it to him."Words failed to convey the outraged disgust in her voice.
The milk indicated was condensed milk in a half-emptied can; the bottlewas the regulation kind for babies and as filthy as dirty glass couldlook. Sheila and Doctor Fuller exchanged glances.
"Plenty of fight in the little beggar or he wouldn't be outlasting--" Thedoctor swallowed the remainder of the sentence, cut short by a startledlook on Sheila's face.
The screams had stopped a minute before, and Sheila believed the atom haddropped asleep. But instead of feeling the tiny body relax as a sleepingbaby's will, it was growing slowly rigid. With this realization she strodeto the bed and put the atom down. Before their eyes the body stiffened,while the head rolled slowly from side to side and under the half-closedlids the eyeballs rolled with it.
"Convulsions!" announced the corridor nurse, with an anxious look towardthe door. Then, as a bell tinkled, she voiced her relief in a quickbreath. "That's sixty-one. I'm hiking--"
"No, you don't!" The doctor jerked her back; he wanted to shake her."You'll hustle some hot water for us, and then you'll stand by to hustlesome more. See?" He was shedding all unnecessary clothing as he spoke, andSheila was peeling the atom free of shirt and roundabout as fast asskilled fingers could move.
It is a wonderful thing to watch the fight between human skill and deathfor the life of a baby. So little it takes to swing the victory eitherway, so close does it border on the miraculous, that few can stand and seewithout feeling the silent, invisible presence of the Nazarene. A lifethus saved seems to gather unto itself a special significance and valuefor those who have fought for it and those who receive it again. Itcreates new feelings and a clearer vision in blind, unthinking motherhood;it awakens to a vital response hitherto dormant fatherhood. And even thecallous outsider becomes exalted with the wonder and closeness of thatunseen presence.
As the brown atom writhed from one convulsion into another, Sheila and theold doctor worked with compressed lips and almost suspended breath; theyworked like a single mind supplied with twice the usual amount ofauxiliaries. They saw, without acknowledging it, the gorgeous, tropicalfigure that came and stood half-way between the door and the bed; lipscarmined, throat and cheeks heavy with powder, jewels covering ears, neck,fingers, and wrists, she looked absurdly unreal beside the nurse in heruniform and the doctor in his shirt-sleeves. Occasionally Sheila glancedat her. If they won, would the mother care? The question came back to herconsciousness again and again. In her own experience she knew how oftenthe thing one called motherhood would come into actual existence after astruggle like this when birth itself had failed to accomplish anything buta physical obligation. Believing this, Sheila fought the harder.
After an hour the convulsions subsided. A few more drops of brandy werepoured down the tiny throat, and slowly the heart took up its regulationwork. Sheila wrapped the atom in a blanket, put it back on the bed, andbeckoned to the mother.
Curiosity seemed to be the one governing emotion of the senora. She lookedwithout any trace of grief, and, having looked, she spoke impassively: "Itheenk eet dead. Yes?"
Doctor Fuller, with perspiration pouring from him, transfixed her with astare. "No! That baby's going to get well now, and you're going to letMiss O'Leary teach you how to take proper care of it. Understand?" Thenclapping his fellow-fighter on the back, he beamed down upon her."Leerie, you're one grand soldier!"
The monotone of the gorgeous senora broke up any response Sheila mighthave given. "I theenk eet die, all the same," came the impassive voice."The _padre_ on the ship make it all ready for die--I theenk yes pret'soon."
"No!" The doctor fairly thundered it forth.
She stooped and pulled away a fold of the blanket with the tips of herfingers. "Eet look ver' ugly--like eet die. I theenk--all the same."
The doctor caught up his cast-off clothing and flung himself out of theroom. Sheila watched him go, a faint smile pulling at the corners of hermouth. Strange! He had so evidently reached the end of his self-control,optimism, and patience, while she was just beginning to find hers. In thesweep of a second things looked wonderfully clear and hopeful. She thoughtshe could understand what was in the mind and heart of the senora; whatwas more significant, she thought she could understand the reason for it.And what you can understand you can cope with.
She watched the senora searching in this trunk and that; she saw her jerkforth a diminutive dress of embroidery and fluted lace; while she thoughtthe whole thing through to the finish and smiled one of her oldinscrutable smiles.
"Pret' dress," said the senora. "Plent' lace and reebon. You put on forbury eet--I go find _padre_."
"No," said Sheila, emphatically, "you stay here. I'll go and find the_padre_."
She left them both in the charge of the corridor nurse and flew for thetelephone. It took her less than a minute to get Father O'Friel; it tookbut a trifle more for her to outline her plan and bind him to it. AndFather O'Friel, with a comprehension to match his conscientiousness, and asense of humor to match them both, hardly knew whether to be shocked oramused.
"Why not appeal to the baby's father?"
"Realize it takes a month for a letter to reach that little South Americanant-hill? Write now if you want to, but let me be trying my way while theletter is traveling."
"All right. But if it doesn't work--"
"It will. When my feelings about anything run all to the good this way,I'd bank anything on them. Now please hurry."
So it came about that instead of a burial service that night FatherO'Friel conducted an original and unprecedented adoption ceremony. Withouteven a witness the senora signed a paper which she showed no inclinationto read and which she would hardly have understood had she attempted it.It was enough for her that she could give away Francisco Enrique ManuelMachado y Rodriguez to a foolish nurse who was plainly anxious to bebothered with him. Death had seemed the only release from an obligationthat exhausted and frightened her, and from which neither pleasure norpersonal pride could be obtained. But this was another way mercifully heldout to her, and she accepted it with gratitude and absolute belief.Eagerly she agreed to the conditions Sheila laid down; the father was tobe notified and forced to make a life settlement on the atom; in the meantime she was to remain at the sanitarium, pay all expenses, and interferein no way with the nurse or the baby. So desirous was she to display hergratitude that she heaped the atom's wardrobe--lace, ribbons, andembroidery--upon Sheila, and kissed the hem of Father O'Friel's cassock.
"_Que gracioso--que magnifico!_" Then she yawned behind her tinted nails."I have ver' much the sleep. I find anothaire room and make what youcall--_la cama_." At the door she turned and cast a farewell look upon theblanketed bundle. "Eet look ver' ugly--all the same I theenk eet die."
It took barely ten minutes for word of the adoption to reach DoctorFuller, and it brought him running. "Good Lord! Leerie, are you crazy? Didyou think I pulled you out of bed to-night to start an orphan-asylum? Whatdo you mean, girl?"
Sheila looked down at her newly acquired possession, and for the firsttime that night the strange, luminous look that was all her own, that hadwon for her her nickname of Leerie, crept into her eyes; they fairlydazzled the old doctor with their shining. "Honestly, don't know myself.Still testing out my feelings in my think laboratory."
"You can't raise that baby and keep on with your nursing. Too muchresponsibility, anyway, for a young person. What's more, the mothershouldn't be allowed to dodge it. She can be made fit."
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"How are you going to do it? Train her with harness and braces? Or moralsuasion--or the courts?"
"And I thought you hated it, couldn't bear to touch it," growled the babyspecialist.
"Did. But that's past tense. Since I fought for it, it's suddenly becomeremarkably precious. And that's the precise feeling I'm testing up in thelab."
"In the name of common sense what do you mean, Leerie?"
She patted his arm soothingly. "There, there. Go to bed; you're tuckeredout. Leave me alone for two months, and I'll tell you. And suppose youwrite down that milk formula before you go; he's going to wake up asfighting hungry as a little tiger-cat."
How the sanitarium took the news of the arrivals and the rumor of theadoption, what they thought of the gorgeous and irresponsible senora andLeerie's latest exploit, does not concern the story. It is enough to saythat tongues wagged abundantly; and when Sheila appeared some ten dayslater in the pine grove wheeling a perambulator every one who was out andcould manufacture the flimsiest excuse for her curiosity hurried to thecarriage and thrust an inquisitive head under the hood. It seemed as ifhundreds blocked the walk from the pond to the rest-house.
"Bad as a circus parade," thought Sheila. "Can't stay here, or they'll putus in a tent and ask admission." Then she spied Hennessy coming with hisplatter of bread for the swans, and called to him. Somehow he managed toscatter the crowd, and Sheila clung to the sleeve of his blue jumper as ifit had been so much cork to a man overboard. "Listen, Hennessy, I want totake Pancho away from the San. You and Marm have a cozy place, and it'sfar enough away. There's only the two of you. Can't you take us in?"
But Hennessy was likewise thrusting a head under the hood. "Honest to God,Miss Leerie, is it human?"
"Hennessy, don't be an idiot!"
"But I saw the face on it--an' the scratchin' it did the day it wasfetched in. Does it still be scratchin'?"
"Sometimes." Sheila smiled faintly. "He hasn't had time yet to forget allthose shakings. Well, can we come?"
Hennessy eyed the perambulator fearsomely. "Have to ask Marm. Faith, do yethink, now, if it had been human, its mother would have given it away sameas if it had been a young cat or dog too many in the litter?"
"Mothers don't have to love their babies; there's no birth license tosign, you know, with a love-and-cherish clause in it. Just come, wanted ornot, and afterward--"
But Hennessy was deep in speculations of his own. "Now if it was Ireland,Miss Leerie, do ye know what I would be thinkin'?"
"What?"
He lowered his voice and looked furtively over his shoulder. "Achangeling! Sure as you're born, Miss Leerie, I'm thinkin' it's one o'them little black imps the fairies leave in place o' the real childthey're after stealin'. I disremember if they have the likes o' that inSouth America, but that's my notion, just the same."
Sheila O'Leary laughed inside and out. "Hennessy, you're wonderful. Andwho but an Irishman would have thought of it! A changeling--a mostchangeable changeling! What's the treatment?"
"A good brewin' of egg-shells--goose egg-shells if ye have 'em, hens' ifye haven't. But don't ye be laughin'; 'tis a sign o' black doin's, an'laughin' might bring bad luck on ye."
Sheila sobered. "We'll brew egg-shells. Now hurry home to Marm and coaxher hard, Hennessy."
Because Sheila O'Leary invariably had her way among the many who loved andbelieved in her, and because Hennessy and Marm Hennessy were numberedconspicuously among these, Sheila and her adopted moved early thefollowing morning into the diminutive and immaculate house of Hennessy,with a vine-covered porch in front and a hen-yard in the rear. And thatnight there was a plentiful brew of egg-shells on the kitchen stove, donein the most approved Irish fashion, with the atom near by to inhale thefumes.
"Maybe 'twill work, an' then again maybe 'twon't." Hennessy lookedanxious. "Magic, like anything else, often spoils in transportatin'."
"Oh, it will work!" Sheila spoke with conviction. "And we'll hope thesenora's letter won't travel too fast."
So the names of Sheila O'Leary and Francisco Enrique Manuel Machado yRodriguez were crossed off the books of the sanitarium, and the gossipssaw them no more. Only Doctor Fuller and Peter Brooks sought them out intheir new quarters, the doctor to attend professionally, Peter to attendto the dictates of a persistent heart. Never a day went by that he did notfind his feet trailing the dust on the road to the house of Hennessy, andSheila dropped into the habit of watching for him from the vine-coveredporch at a certain time every afternoon. The picture of the best nurse atthe sanitarium sitting in a little old rocker with the brown atom kickingand crowing on her lap, and looking down the steps with eyes that seemedto grow daily more luminous, came to be an accepted reality to both Peterand the doctor--as much of a reality as the reaching out of the atom'ssmall tendril-like fingers to curl about one's thumb or to cling to one'swatch-charm.
"Loving little cuss," muttered Peter one afternoon. "Can you tell me howany mother under the sun could resist those eyes or the clutch of thosebrown paws?"
"Don't forget one point," Sheila spoke quietly; "he wasn't a loving littlecuss then."
"He'll go down on the books as my pet case," chuckled the doctor. "Fourpounds in four weeks! Think of it, on a whole-milk formula!"
Hennessy wagged his head knowingly at Sheila, and when they had gone hesnorted forth his contempt for professional ignorance. "Milk!Fiddlesticks! Sure a docthor don't know everything. 'Twas the egg-shellsthat done it, an' Marm an' me can bear witness he quit the scratchin' an'began the smilin' from that very hour. Look at him now! Can ye deny it,Miss Leerie?"
"I'm not wanting to, Hennessy." Whereupon Sheila proved the matter byreducing the atom to squeals of joy while she retold the old history ofthe pigs with the aid of five little brown toes.
Between Peter and Hennessy, Sheila came into possession of many factsconcerning the senora. Her dresses and her jewels were the talk of thesanitarium. She applied herself diligently to all beautifying treatmentsand the charming of susceptible young men. Presumably life to her meantonly a continuous process of adorning herself and receiving admiration. Soshe spent her days dressing and basking in the company of a dozendifferent swains, and the atom cast no annoying shadow on her pathway.
August came, and the atom discovered his legs. Sheila disregarded the laceand ribbons with a sigh of relief and took to making rompers. They wereadorable rompers with smocking and the palest of pink collars and belts.The licorice sticks had changed to a rich olive brown and had assumedsufficient rotundity to allow of pink-and-white socks and whiteankle-ties. In all the busy years of her nursing Sheila had never had timefor anything like this; she had never had a baby for longer than a week ortwo at a time. Just as she was beginning to feel her individual share inthem they had all gone the way of properly parented offspring, and neverhad she sewed a single baby dress. She gloried in the lengths of dimityand poplin, in the intricacies of new stitches and embroidery. And Peter,watching from a step on the porch, gloried in the picture she made.
When a romper was finished it had to be tried on that very minute. Shewould whisk up the atom from the hammock where he lay kicking, and sliphim into it, holding him high for Peter to admire.
"He's a cherub done in bronze," said Peter, one day. "Here, give him tome." And later, as he perched him on his shoulder and tickled his ribsuntil he squirmed with glee he announced, "If I wasn't a homeless bachelorI'd take him off your hands in about two minutes."
"What's that?" shouted Doctor Fuller, coming down the street. "Did you sayanything about re-adoption? Well, you might as well know now that Mrs.Fuller and I intend taking Pancho off Leerie's hands as soon as she'sready to go back to work again. Aren't you getting lazy, Leerie?"
For once Sheila failed to respond in kind to the doctor's chaffing. Allthe shine faded out of her eyes. "Can't believe two months have gone--amonth for a letter to go, a month for an answer to come. I'm afraid noneof us will keep him very much longer."
"Don't worry, they won't want him back. Beside
s, they've forfeitedtheir right to him," the old doctor snorted, indignantly.
Holding him high for Peter to admire]
"Not legally. When the letter comes, you'll see." There was none of theanticipated delight in Sheila's voice that had been there on that firstnight when she had laid her plans and sworn Father O'Friel into backingher up. Her voice was as colorless as her eyes were dull; for somemiraculous reason the life and inner light that seemed such an inseparablepart of her had suddenly gone out. She reached up and removed the atomfrom Peter's shoulder.
Hennessy, who had joined the group, was the last to speak. "Sure it'smortial good of both ye gentlemen to lift the throuble o' raisin' the weeone off Miss Leerie, but if any one lifts it, it's Marm an' me. We hadthat settled the next morning after we fetched him over an' knew 'twas thereal one we'd got, after all."
"The real one? What do you mean by that?" The doctor looked puzzled.
Hennessy winked his only answer.
Through the first days of September Sheila waited with feverish anxiety.The hours spent on the vine-covered porch with the atom, asleep or awake,for steady company, and Peter for occasional, passed all too quickly. Forthe first time in her life Sheila wished days back; she would have put achecking hand on time had she had the power. Then just as she was makingup her mind that her fear was for nothing, that her plans had gloriouslyfailed and Pancho was to be hers for all time, the wretched news came.Peter brought it, hurrying hatless down the street, and Sheila, knowing inher heart what had happened, went down the steps to meet him.
"Is it a letter--or a wire--or what? And where's the senora?"
"Having hysterics in front of the business office." Peter stopped to gethis breath. "The husband wired from New York--he'll be down on the morningtrain. It seems the senora wired him when she first got here that Panchowas dying, so she didn't see any need of changing it in her letter. Shesaid she wanted the money for a monument and masses--and he could send itin a draft. Guess he thought more of the boy than the mother did, for he'scome up to bring the body home and put up the monument down there. Nowshe doesn't know what to tell him. Can you beat that for straightfiction?"
Sheila picked up the atom and disappeared inside without a word. When shereappeared a few minutes later, the atom was arrayed in his most becomingromper, his black curls were brushed into an encircling halo, his handsclapping over some consciousness of pleasurable excitement. Sheila tuckedhim into his carriage and faced Peter with a grim look of command. "You'reto play policeman, understand! Walk back of me all the way. If I show anysign of turning back or running away, arrest me on the spot."
"What are you going to do?"
"What two months ago I thought would be the easiest thing in theworld--and what I wouldn't be doing now for a million dollars if I hadn'tgiven my word to Father O'Friel and the law wasn't against me."
As Peter had rightfully reported, the senora was having hysterics in frontof the business office, with the business and hospital staff trying theirbest to quench her, and as many patients as the lobby would hold watchingin varying degrees of curiosity. Only one of Latin blood could haveachieved a scene of such melodramatic abandon and stamped it as genuine,but no one present doubted the grief and despair of the senora as shepaced the floor wringing her hands and wailing in her native tongue.Sheila entered by way of the basement and the lift, and she wheeled theatom's carriage into the inner circle of the crowd, with Peter still inattendance.
For the moment the interest swerved from the weeping figure to the cooingoccupant of the carriage. The atom was still clapping his hands, and apink flush of excitement tinged the olive of the cheeks. "Look at thatcunning baby!"... "Isn't he a darling?"... "Why, isn't that the SouthAmerican baby?"... "Sh-h-h--deformed or something."... "Of course, itcan't be." Sentences, whole and in fragments, came to Sheila as she pushedher way through the crowd.
Something of this new interest must have penetrated the senora'sconsciousness, for her wailing ceased; she cocked her head on one sidelike a listening parrakeet. "Who say babee? I theenk--I theenk--" Then shesaw Sheila. A look of immediate recognition swept over her face, but itwas gone the instant she looked at the atom. "Who that babee?" shedemanded.
"Mine." Sheila pinned her with steady eyes, while her mouth looked as ifit could never grow gentle and demure again.
Incredulity, suspicion, amazement, were all registered on the pretty,shallow face. "Your babee? How you get babee?"
Sheila made no answer.
The senora looked again at the atom; she held out a timorous finger tohim. He responded cordially by curling a small fist promptly about it."_Madre de Dios, que bonito! Que chico y hermoso!_" Then, to Sheila: "Igive you seeck babee--eet no die? You make thees babee out of seeck babee,yes?"
Sheila still remained silent.
The senora turned to the atom for the confirmation she desired. "_Nene,como te llamas?_"
It was intensely entertaining to the atom. He wagged the senora's fingerfrantically, tossed back his head, and gave forth a low, gurgling laugh."_Jesu!_ That ees hees papa. He look like that when he laugh. _Tu nombre,nene--tu nombre?_" With a fresh outburst she sank down beside thecarriage and buried her face in the brown legs and pink socks.
But the atom did not approve of this. His lower lip dropped and quivered;he reached out his arm to Sheila. "Ma-ma-ma-ma," he coaxed.
"You no ma-ma, I ma-ma." The senora was on her feet, shaking an angry fistat Sheila. But in an instant her anger was gone; she was down on her kneesagain, clasping Sheila's skirt, while her voice wailed forth insupplication. "You no keep leetle babee? You ver' good, ver' kind,senorita--you _muy simpatica_, yes? You give leetle babee. I ma-ma. Yes?"
But Sheila O'Leary stood grim and unyielding. "No. He is mine. When he wassick, dying, you didn't want him. You did not like to look at him becausehe was ugly; you did not like to hear him cry--so you abused him. Now,he's all well; he's a pretty baby; he does not cry; he does not scratch. Inever shake him; he loves me very, very much. Now I keep him!" Thus Sheiladelivered her ultimatum.
But the senora still clung. "I no shake babee now. I love babee now.Please--please--his pa-pa come. You give heem back?"
Sheila unclasped the senora's hands, turned the atom's carriage about, anddeliberately wheeled him away.
Out of the lobby to the sidewalk she was pursued by pleading cries,expostulating reproofs, as well as actual particles of the crowd itself,the Reverend Mr. Grumble, the wife of one of the trustees, a handful ofprotesting patients, following to urge the rights of the prostratedmother. But Sheila refused to be held back or argued with; stoically shekept on her way. When she reached the little vine-covered porch onlyPeter, Father O'Friel, and Doctor Fuller remained as escort.
"You can't keep him, Leerie. You've got to give him up." The old doctorspoke sorrowfully but firmly.
"It was only a mock adoption, and you promised if she ever wanted him backshe should have him," Father O'Friel reminded her.
"She's his mother, after all," Peter put in, lamely.
At that Sheila exploded. "You men make me tired! 'She's his mother, afterall.' After all what? Cruelty, neglect, heartlessness, hoping he woulddie--glad to be rid of him! That's about all the sense of justice youhave. Let a woman weep and call for her baby, and every man within earshotwould hand him over without considering for a moment what kind of care shewould give him. Oh, you--make--me--sick!" Sheila buried her face in thenape of Pancho's neck.
Doctor Fuller, who had always known her, who had stood by her in herdisgrace when she had been sent away from the sanitarium three yearsbefore and had believed in her implicitly in spite of all damningevidence, who had fought for her a dozen times when she had called downupon her head the wrath of the business office, looked now upon hersilent, shaking figure with open-mouthed astonishment. In all those yearshe had never seen Leerie cry, and he couldn't quite stand it.
"There, there, child! We understand--we're not quite the duffers you makeus out. Of course, by all rights, human and moral, the
little shaverbelongs to you, but you can't keep him, just the same."
"Know it! Needn't rub it in! Wasn't going to!" Sheila raised a wet face,with red-rimmed eyes and lips that trembled outrageously. She couldn'tsteady them to save her, and so she let them tremble while she stutteredforth her last protest. "Didn't think for a moment I wouldn't give himback, d-d-did you? That was my plan--my way. I wanted Father O'Friel tolet me try--t-t-t-thought all along he'd grow into such an ad-d-d-dorablemite his m-m-m-mother'd be wanting him back. What I didn't count on was mywanting to k-k-keep him." Sheila swallowed hard. She wanted to get rid ofthat everlasting choke in her throat. When she spoke again her voice wassteadier. "But I tell you one thing. She doesn't get him without fightingfor him. She's going to fight for him as I fought that night in thesanitarium, and you're going to help me keep her fighting. Understand?Then perhaps when she gets him she'll have some faint notion of howprecious a baby can be." With a more grim expression than any of the threehad ever seen on her usually luminous face, Sheila O'Leary shouldered theatom and disappeared within the house.
The three men stood by her while Hennessy guarded the house. For the restof the day the senora, backed by the business office and a procession ofinterested sympathizers, stormed the parish house and demanded to see thepaper that she had signed. They stormed Doctor Fuller's office anddemanded his co-operation, or at least what information he had to give.They consulted the one lawyer in the town and three others within cardistance, but their advice availed little, inasmuch as Father O'Friel hadrefused to give up the paper until the baby's father arrived, and theycould get no intelligent idea from the senora of how legal the adoptionhad been made. By keeping perfectly dumb the three were able to hold thecrowd in abeyance, and the senora, looking anything but a bird ofparadise, came back to them again and again to weep, to plead, to bribe.
The excitement held until midnight, an unprecedented occurrence for thesanitarium. It was still dark the next morning when Hennessy was rousedfrom the haircloth sofa in the hall, where he was still keeping guard, bythe fumbling of a hand on the door-knob. "Who's there?" roared Hennessy.
"Please--eet ees me--the Senora Machado y Rodriguez."
"Go 'way! Shoo-oo!" Hennessy banged the door with his fist as he alwaysbanged the bread-platter to scatter the swans.
"I go when I see babee," came the feeble response to his racket.
"Let her in, Hennessy," came the voice of Sheila from up-stairs.
Hennessy unbarred the door, and a shaken, pathetic little figure crept in.All the coy prettiness was gone for the moment; the swollen eyes hadcircles about them, the cheeks were sallow and free of powder as the lipswere free of carmine. The mouth quivered like a grief-stricken child's."Please--please--I see babee?" came the wail again.
"Yes. Come up softly," Sheila called from the head of the stairs.
The little figure crept up eagerly. Sheila put out an arm and led her intoa room where a single candle burned beside the bed. There lay the atom,rosy and dimpling in his sleep.
It is to be doubted if the senora had ever dreamed of such a possessionafter the appalling reality of the original Francisco Enrique ManuelMachado y Rodriguez. In her ignorance and youth she had accepted ugliness,sickness, and peevish crying as the normal attributes of babyhood, andbecause of this she had loathed it. Therefore to be suddenly confrontedwith her awful mistake, to find that she had thrown away something thatwas beautiful and enchanting, to know she had forfeited what might havebeen hers, to feel in a small degree the first longing of motherhood andbe denied it--all this was born into the slowly awakening consciousness ofthe senora. It almost transformed her face into homely holiness as shemade her one supreme prayer and sacrifice. "You give me my babee--now--yougive heem and not keep--and I give you all these. See?" She held out herhands that had been clasped under the heavy mantilla that covered her headand shoulders. Opening them, she thrust them close, that Sheila mightlook. They were filled with jewels--the jewels she adored, that hadcontributed a large part to the joy of her existence. Pins, rings,necklaces, bracelets--the senora had not kept back a single ornament."You--you and the blessed Maria will give heem back to me?"
"Get down and pray to the Maria," commanded Sheila. "Promise her that ifshe will give your baby back to you you will take care of him for ever andever. Never neglect him, never shake nor slap him, never give him bad milkto make him sick. Promise you'll always love him and keep him laughing andpretty. And remember--break your promise, let anything happen to Panchoagain, and Maria will not give him back to you another time."
The sanitarium never learned in detail how Senor Machado became reconciledto a live son, not being present when the news was conveyed to him. Theysaw him arrive, however, looking very much shaken with his bereavement,and they saw him depart with his son perched high upon his shoulder,wearing the expression of one who has come unexpectedly into a greatpossession, while the senora clung to them both. The sanitarium waved themoff with gladness and satisfaction--all but four unsmiling outsiders. Sogreat a hole can a departing atom sometimes leave behind that those fourwho had given him temporary care and guardianship went about for days withsorrow written plainly upon them. Hennessy fed the swans in bittersilence; Peter moped, with a laugh for no one; Doctor Fuller groanedwhenever South America was mentioned; while all three knew they could noteven fathom the deepness or the bigness of that hole for Sheila.
Peter took her for a twilight ride in his car the first empty night. "Goon and cry it out--I sha'n't mind," he urged as he speeded the car along acountry road.
Sheila smiled faintly. "Thank you--can't. Just feel bruised and banged allover--feel as if I needed a plunge in that old pool of Bethesda."
They spun on in silence for a few miles more before Sheila spoke again. "Ilearned one wonderful thing from Pancho--something I never felt sure ofbefore."
"What was that?"
"Sorry--can't tell. It's the sort of thing you tell only the man youmarry, after you've discovered he's the only man you ever could havemarried."
Peter speeded the car ahead and smiled quietly into the gatheringdarkness. Fortunately he was not an impatient man.
There is one point concerning the atom that Hennessy and Doctor Fullerstill wrangle over, neither of them having the slightest conception of theother's point of view.
"That was a case of good nursing and milk," the old doctor persists.
While Hennessy beats the air with his fists and shouts: "Nothing of thesort! 'Twas egg-shells that done it."