Marietta was not unduly proud, though she was well aware that she was beautiful and better dressed than most of the other girls. On the strength of all that, she assumed a precedence for herself that gave her the right to rule, to order the lives and coming and goings of her companions, and such menials as should be related to their individual groups. And when an occasion arose in which some unfortunate friend balked her plans, either intentionally or otherwise, Marietta usually dealt out a punishment in the form of cold words and sharp looks; sometimes followed by honeyed forgiveness and restoration to high favor if they were duly repentant.
Val Willoughby formerly was one of her most devoted subjects at the age of ten to twelve years. But advanced prep school and then college had removed him from her immediate neighborhood, and she had had little contact with him of late, except for a few isolated hours now and then when he stopped off for a brief visit with his aunt. But now that he had come back to be with his aunt indefinitely, or at least “for the duration,” Marietta fully expected to take over again, and this “defense plan,” as she called her scheme of a series of dances, was the first move in that direction. She was therefore greatly annoyed not to be able to get in touch with him at once to make him aware of his part in the activities.
So it was with a deeper frown than mere annoyance would have caused that Marietta turned from the telephone at last and wondered what to do next. She wasn’t often balked so fully and so continuously as this. Surely, surely Val would come home to dinner soon. She would wait a little longer and call again. Then she interviewed the cook and had their own dinner hour delayed a half hour, just to allow time to get hold of Val.
Meantime Val was helping the Fernley family move in and watching Frannie as she went capably about, directing the arrangement of furniture, putting dishes and pots and pans away in the cupboards, showing that she had calculated to precision just where everything would fit and be convenient.
He watched her gracious young face as she thanked her former neighbors for bringing their goods so safely. She urged them to stay a little while and let her get them some supper before they would begin the long drive back to Bluebell.
“No, Frannie,” said the older man, speaking for them both, “we gotta get back. I promised Mother I’d get back along the edge of dark, and she’ll be worrying till we get there. And don’t you worry about us. Mother, she put up a lunch for us, and she sent you some of her raisin cookies you like so much. Here they are. I calculate you’ll have enough to do to get supper for your own family without any of us added to it, so if you’re sure that is all you need we’ll just be hurrying right along. We’ll be back some day next week with the pianna. Then that’s all your things, but don’t forget, if you should need anything else from us, don’t hesitate to write us, or telephone my son’s house and he’ll let us know.”
So they were gone, and Frannie turned to thank the young man who had helped her so materially all day.
“You’ve been just wonderful!” she said again.
“Nothing like that,” he said smiling. “I’ve been having the time of my life. It’s fun to help other people get settled. Say, this is going to be a real handy little house, isn’t it? I never dreamed there would be so much room here. And now, what do we do next? Don’t we have to get supper? And by the way, how did you find your mother?”
“Why, she seemed really bright, although I could see she is still very tired. She has been through an awful beating, it’s true, and I suppose we didn’t realize what it was doing to her, although I’d been terribly worried about her. But she really is getting a good rest. She went to sleep when the nurse told her, like a tired little child. I’m so thankful for that lovely nurse. I can see she knows how to manage Mother. If I’d been here alone with her I’m positive she’d have gotten right up and tried to get supper. But isn’t that a car stopping at the door? You don’t suppose those men have come back, do you? Perhaps they forgot something.”
Willoughby looked out the side window.
“That’s the doctor,” he announced. “I’m glad he’s come. Now we’ll know just how your mother is. I was hoping he would come before I left. Shall I open the door? You know he won’t be surprised to see me here. He and I really opened this hospital together this morning, you remember. Come in, Doctor Ransom. This is Miss Fernley.”
Frannie looked up to meet the kind eyes of the old doctor and her heart gave thanks at the instant confidence he gave her.
“Oh, is my mother very sick?” she asked him, her keen young eyes on his face, a sweet wistfulness in her voice.
“Why, I trust not, my dear,” assured the hearty voice of the old doctor. “I thought she was doing very well when I was here at noon. How does she seem now? Where is the nurse?”
“She’s upstairs with Mother. Will you go up? The movers have just gone. I hope the noise wasn’t too much for her!”
The doctor smiled at the anxious young face.
“Why, I don’t see why that should harm her,” he said. “Suppose we go up and see. I think your mother is simply tired out and needed a little rest. I’m sure she’s going to be all right very soon. Val, suppose you wait here till I come down. I want to see you a minute.”
“Yes sir, I’ll do that,” said Willoughby.
Very quietly the doctor entered the sick room, and Mrs. Fernley’s eyes opened instantly, as if his coming were what she had been waiting for even in her sleep. The doctor’s presence was like a ray of sunshine in the little room. He came over and sat down on the chair by the bed with a cheery smile.
“Well, little lady,” he said, “how are you feeling by now?”
He peered keenly into her eyes and put a fine, soft hand over her wrist with a friendly motion, searching for the pulse which had been so weak that morning. Then he looked up at the nurse and gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head.
“Yes, Nurse, this is a good strong pulse,” he said decidedly. “You’ve done a good job of nursing here today. I think this lady will be coming around in a very few days. What do you think?”
The nurse smiled at Frannie.
“Yes, I thought she was getting along nicely,” she said happily.
Frannie’s heart rose, and her joy was reflected in her happy eyes.
“Oh, I’m so glad!” she breathed. “I was so afraid I should have come home, even though you did send me word it wasn’t necessary. I knew those movers were coming, and I knew Mother would worry about that.”
“Yes, but my dear child, you didn’t realize that your mother was too ill at first to worry about anything, except that you should not be disturbed. And then as she got a little rested, there was the nurse, and she didn’t take long to get acquainted.”
“No, I didn’t know all that,” murmured Frannie gravely with a bit of a sigh. “But, you see, I knew mother and how used she was to worrying.”
The doctor gave her a quick glance of comprehension.
“I see!” he said understandingly. “Well, we must fix it so that she won’t do any worrying, at least not for a while.”
“Yes,” said Frannie with a suddenly troubled look in her eyes. “But that won’t be so easy to arrange.”
“Oh, I think there’ll be a way to arrange that,” said the doctor comfortably. “You leave it to me. I’ll find a way. Now, Nurse, how much of that medicine have you got left? I see. Well, I’ll give you something else to go with it.”
It was quiet in the room while the doctor was preparing his medicine and giving now and then a crisp instruction to the nurse. Frannie listened with a growing confidence. Then he rose and looked down at the patient.
“Good night, Mrs. Fernley. I hope you will eat a nice little supper and then go to sleep and sleep until morning. I shall expect to find you greatly improved by morning when I run in again, but remember, if you want to get well quickly you must do just as the nurse says.”
“But doctor,” said the invalid, “I should have told you. We are really poor people. We can’t afford to run up d
octor’s and nurse’s bills. I’m sure I shall not need you again in the morning.”
“There, there, my dear, we’re not running up bills. This is just a neighborly visit on my way home, so you needn’t worry. In fact, I like to be good friends with my patients, and I like to run in and get acquainted with them now and then. Now, Nurse Branner, is that all, or do you want to ask any questions?”
He stood a moment at the door talking with the nurse, and Frannie stole near to her mother and softly kissed the frail hand that lay on the pillow.
The mother smiled and murmured, “I’ll be all right, dear child. Don’t you worry!”
“No, I won’t, Mother, if you do just as you are told. Now I’m going down and hunt some supper for you.”
“Just some milk will do,” said the mother softly. “Don’t go to any trouble for me. I’ll be all right.”
Frannie kissed her again and stole downstairs after the doctor.
“Don’t worry about her supper,” said the nurse softly as she passed her at the door. “I saved a cup of that chicken broth for her.”
Frannie flashed her a grateful glance and sped on after the doctor, who was standing in the room below with his hand on young Willoughby’s shoulder and a comradely look on his kind, benevolent face. They might have been talking about personal affairs or business matters, or even political and defense programs but in reality the doctor was saying, “My boy, I wonder if I can rely on you to keep me in touch with how things are going in this family. That little mother has gone just about as far as she could go and not slip over the border entirely. And yet I believe that with reasonable care she can snap out of this trouble entirely and recover her normal health. But there has got to be somebody watching for at least a few days, or maybe even weeks, and so I am hoping they will let the nurse stay here awhile—just as an accommodation to her, you know, that is, ostensibly—and keep a watch out. You see, it happens most fortunately that Nurse Branner has just come off a year’s case. And the people with whom she formerly boarded have suddenly gone to California. Of course we would take her into our home if necessary, but my wife’s sister and her daughter are with us this winter, and it makes it a little crowded to take in another at present, so she has really been expecting to look for a new residence. But she is enough of a Christian and enthusiastic enough as a nurse to get interested here and stay awhile, as long as she is needed. So the matter of money does not need to come into the picture at all. So then, could I depend on you, Val, to see what you can do with the family to see this thing straight, at least until the mother is out of danger? I know you haven’t much time, but are you so situated that you could run over here early in the morning and then phone me how things are, so that I won’t have to leave home until after my office hours are over. They ought to have a telephone here, but of course that can’t be done tonight, and I ought to be in a position to get word from the nurse early. Can you do that?”
“I can,” said Willoughby with a pleasant ring to his voice. “I’ll be glad to help in any way I can.”
“Well, thank you. I’ll be depending on you,” and with a smile of reassurance at Frannie the doctor strode out to his car and was soon driving away.
But as Frannie and Val lingered for a moment watching him, another car pulled up in front of the house and stopped. It was a big, old-fashioned car with plenty of room, a shining exterior, and an old lady sitting on the backseat alone.
The chauffeur helped the old lady out, and she started up the walk.
“Why, Val Willoughby!” she said. “I wondered if you would happen to turn up around here again. That’s nice. You can introduce me to my new neighbors, can’t you?”
The young man came quickly to her side and offered his arm.
“I surely can, Lady Winthrop. I’ll be delighted. This is Frances Fernley. I think they call her Frannie. She is the young lady, I believe, whom you have admired so much, skating down the river.”
Frannie looked up, surprised, and flashed a shy smile at the old lady.
“And you are the wonderful neighbor that came to our assistance when my mother was taken sick, aren’t you?” said Frannie. “I’ve heard all about you, and I’m so glad to be able to thank you. I know my mother will want to thank you herself as soon as she is able to see anybody. Won’t you come in? We’re not really in order yet. Our things have just come. I don’t know what we would have done without those blankets you sent, so few of our own came in the first load. And the hot water bags! And the food! I was so relieved when I heard you had sent my mother that wonderful chicken soup.”
The old lady held the girl’s soft hand in a warm clasp.
“You dear child!” she said. “I was so glad to know of something I could do. And your dear little sister! Is she all right? I was so afraid she would take cold going out across that awful ice without a coat.”
Then Bonnie appeared smiling.
“I’m all right,” she said shyly. “That soup and chicken you sent over were just grand!”
“Were they, my dear?” said the old lady with a pleased smile. “Well, I’ve brought you some things for supper. One couldn’t be expected to get meals ready when there is sickness going on, and moving, too. Here, Joseph, are you bringing the basket?”
“Yes, madam, I’m right here!” said the old serving man walking up behind her. “Shall I just take it inside to the kitchen?”
“Oh yes. Bonnie, you show him the way to the kitchen. And now I’ll sit down for a minute so I will feel I know you, and then I must go.” Lady Winthrop dropped into a big chair by the door and looked around her smiling, taking in every little detail without in the least seeming to do so.
“This is a very attractive house,” she said. “I can’t see it well from my windows, but I think it might be very lovely in the summer. You’ll need some vines. I have plenty of ivy slips. If you want them in the spring I’ll send them over. I think a brick house always looks lovely with English ivy growing over it.”
“Oh, we would love to have that,” said Frannie eagerly, “and I know Mother would be delighted. The only objection she made to the house was that it looked so bare and stark. Mother loves trees and vines and flowers.”
“Well, that’s interesting. I’m sure she and I will have a lot in common. Only I’m not able to go out and work among my flowers anymore. I had a fall and it left some of my joints and muscles rather stiff and balky, though Joseph knows how I like the garden, and he fixes it the way I used to have it. But soon the spring will be coming again and you can see it for yourself. Do you like flowers?”
“Oh, I love them,” said Frannie with eagerness in her eyes. “Mother used to have an old-fashioned garden up in the country where we’ve been since father died, and it was lovely. Mother seems to know just how to make flowers grow. She charms them into bloom.”
“Well, I want to get acquainted with her just as soon as she is better. And now, my dear, I think I had better go, because I want you to eat that supper while it is nice. I want your mother to have that milk toast right away while it is still hot. It’s well covered in a hot dish, and the nurse will understand how to fix it. I put in a couple of little bags of tea in case you hadn’t had time to go to the store yet. Well, good-bye dear, and don’t you worry. You can’t afford to get sick, you know, not till your mother is well anyway. Now, Val, are you coming with me? I want to talk to you a few minutes. How would you like to eat dinner with me? It was all ready to put on the table when I came away, and I told the cook I might bring you back with me if you were here. It won’t take you any longer to eat with me than if you went home, and I won’t hinder you if you want to leave immediately after we finish.”
“Why, delightful! Of course I’ll come,” said the young man.
Then he cast a quick look and smile toward Frannie.
“Are you sure you don’t need me for anything before I go?”
“Oh no,” said Frannie shyly. “You’ve been wonderful. I couldn’t think of troubling you any longer. And reall
y there’s nothing more to be done.”
“All right, good night then, and I’ll be seeing you in the morning. You heard me promise the doctor. And besides, if you are planning to skate down we might as well keep each other company, if you don’t mind. It looks as if the weather was going to be all right for the ice at least for another day or two. Good night.”
Frannie stood at the door a moment and watched the big car swing away up the road to the bridge. There was a warm feeling around her heart. How nice and pleasant they all were! How glad she was for their friendship. How nice it had been for the young man to protect her down at the plant and come home with her. And how he had helped the movers.
She went into the house with a smile on her lips and hurried to the kitchen to investigate the big basket that had been left there. She found Bonnie and the nurse already there looking at it.
What nice things they found in that basket! Milk toast made out of homemade bread, light as a feather, browned just right, and with that delicious cream dressing over it, piping hot.
The nurse had the cup of tea already made, and they lost no time in conveying it to the invalid, who ate hungrily, appreciatively, and dropped sweetly to sleep soon after.
Down at the dining room table, which Bonnie had been setting to the best of her ability, the three sat and ate the meal that had been prepared for them. Broiled chops, enough to have some left over for the next day; chopped creamed potatoes cooked to perfection; spinach and peas; a dish of applesauce; and a small delicious custard pie. How good everything tasted, and how grateful they all were!
The Street of the City Page 6