CHAPTER VIII.
UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER.
"HAVE you seen Imogen Young to-day?" was Clover's first question ongetting home.
"No. Lionel was in for a moment at noon, and said she was preservingraspberries; so, as I had a good deal to do, I did not go up. Why?"
"Oh, nothing in particular. I only wanted to know. Well, here we are,left to ourselves with not a Rose to our name. How we _shall_ miss them!There's a letter from Johnnie for you by way of consolation."
But the letter did not prove in the least consoling, for it was to breakto them a piece of disappointing news.
"The Daytons have given up their Western trip," wrote Johnnie. "Mrs.Dayton's father is very ill at Elberon; she has gone to him, and thereis almost no chance of their getting away at all this summer. It reallyis a dreadful disappointment, for we had set our hearts on our visit,and papa had made all his arrangements to be absent for sixweeks,--which you know is a thing not easily done, or undone. Then Debbyand Richard had been promised a holiday, and Dorry was going in a yachtwith some friends to the Thousand Islands. It all seemed so nicelysettled, and here comes this blow to unsettle it. Well, _Dieudispose_,--there is nothing for it but resignation, and unpacking ourhopes and ideas and putting them back again in their usual shelves andcorners. We must make what we can of the situation, and of course, itisn't anything so very hard to have to pass the summer in Burnet withpapa; still I was that wild with disappointment at the first, that Iactually went the length of suggesting that we should go all the same,_and pay our own travelling expenses_! You can judge from this howdesperate my state of mind must have been! Papa, as you may naturallysuppose, promptly vetoed the proposal as impossible, and no doubt he wasright. I am growing gradually resigned to Fate now, but all the same Icannot yet think of the blessed Valley and all of you, and--and thehappy time we are _not_ going to have, without feeling quite like'weeping a little weep.' How I wish that we possessed a superfluousincome!"
"Now," said Elsie, and her voice too sounded as if a "little weep" werenot far off, "isn't that too bad? No papa this year, and no Johnnie. Isuppose we are spoiled, but the fact is, I have grown to count on theDaytons and their car as confidently as though they were the early andthe latter rain." Her arch little face looked quite long anddisconsolate.
"So have I," said Clover. "It doesn't bear talking about, does it?"
She had been conscious of late of a great longing after her father. Shehad counted confidently on his visit, and the sense of disappointmentwas bitter. She put away her bonnet and folded her gloves with a verysober face. A sort of disenchantment seemed to have fallen on the Valleysince the coming of this bad news and the departure of Rose.
"This will never do," she told herself at last, after standing somemoments at the window looking across at the peak through a blur oftears,--"I _must_ brace up and comfort Elsie." But Elsie was not to becomforted all at once, and the wheels of that evening drave ratherheavily.
Next morning, as soon as her usual tasks were despatched, Clover orderedMarigold saddled and started for the Youngs'. Rose's last remarks hadmade her uneasy about Imogen, and she remembered with compunction howlittle she had seen of her for a fortnight past.
No one but Sholto, Lionel's great deerhound, came out to meet her as shedismounted at the door. His bark of welcome brought Ah Lee from the backof the house.
"Missee not velly well, me thinkee," he observed.
"Is Missy ill? Where is Mr. Young, then?"
"He go two hours ago to Uppey Valley. Missee not sick then."
"Is she in her room?" asked Clover. "Tie Marigold in the shade, please,and I will go in and see her."
"All litee."
The bed-room door was closed, and Clover tapped twice before she heard alanguid "Come in." Imogen was lying on the bed in her morning-dress,with flushed cheeks and tumbled hair. She looked at Clover with a sortof perplexed surprise.
"My poor child, what is the matter? Have you a bad headache?"
"Yes, I think so, rather bad. I kept up till Lion had had his breakfast,and then everything seemed to go round, and I had to come and lie down.So stupid of me!" impatiently; "but I thought perhaps it would pass offafter a little."
"And has it?" asked Clover, pulling off her gloves and taking Imogen'shand. It was chilly rather than hot, but the pulse seemed weak andquick. Clover began to feel anxious, but did her best to hide it under acheerful demeanor lest she should startle Imogen.
"Were you quite well yesterday?" she asked.
"Yes,--that is, I wasn't ill. I had no headache then, but I think Ihaven't been quite right for some time back, and I tried to do someraspberries and felt very tired. I dare say it's only gettingacclimated. I'm really very strong. Nothing ever was the matter with meat home."
"Now," said Clover, brightly, "I'll tell you what you are going to do;and that is to put on your wrapper, make yourself comfortable, and takea long sleep. I have come to spend the day, and I will give Lion hisluncheon and see to everything if only you will lie still. A good restwould make you feel better, I am sure."
"Perhaps so," said Imogen, doubtfully. She was too miserable to object,and with a docility foreign to her character submitted to be undressed,to have her hair brushed and knotted up, and a bandage of cold water andeau de cologne laid on her forehead. This passive compliance was sounlike her that Clover felt her anxieties increase. "Matters must beserious," she reflected, "when Imogen Young agrees meekly to anyproposal from anybody."
She settled her comfortably, shook up the pillows, darkened the window,threw a light shawl over her, and sat beside the bed fanning gently tillImogen fell into a troubled sleep. Then she stole softly away and busiedherself in washing the breakfast things and putting the rooms to rights.The young mistress of the house had evidently felt unequal to her usualtasks, and everything was left standing just as it was.
Clover was recalled by a cry from the bedroom, and hurried back to findImogen sitting up, looking confused and startled.
"What is it? Is anything the matter?" she demanded. Then, before Clovercould reply, she came to herself and understood.
"Oh, it is you," she said. "What a comfort! I thought you were goneaway."
"No, indeed, I have no idea of going away. I was just in the other room,straightening things out a little. It was settled that I was to stay tolunch and keep Lionel company, you remember."
"Ah, yes. It is very good of you, but I'm afraid there isn't much forluncheon," sinking back on her pillows again. "Ah Lee will know. I don'tseem able to think clearly of anything." She sighed, and presently wasasleep again, or seemed to be so, and Clover went back to her work.
So it went all day,--broken slumbers, confused wakings, increasingfever, and occasional moments of bewilderment. Clover was sure that itwas a serious illness, and sent Lionel down with a note to say thateither Geoff or Clarence must go in at once and bring out Dr. Hope, thatshe herself was a fixture at the other house for the night at least, andwould like a number of things sent up, of which she inclosed a list.This note threw the family into a wild dismay. Life in the High Valleywas only meant for well people, as Elsie had once admitted. Illness atonce made the disadvantages of so lonely and inaccessible a placeapparent,--with the doctor sixteen miles distant, and no medicines orother appliances of a sick-room to be had short of St. Helen's.
Dr. Hope reached them late in the evening. He pronounced that Imogen hadan attack of "mountain fever," a milder sort of typhoid not uncommon inthe higher elevations of Colorado. He hoped it would be a light case,gave full directions, and promised to send out medicines and to comeagain in three days. Then he departed, and Clover, as she watched himride down the trail, felt as a shipwrecked mariner might, left alone ona desert island,--astray and helpless, and quite at a loss as to whatfirst to do.
There were too many things to be done, however, to allow of her longindulging this feeling, and presently her wits cleared and she was ableto confront the task before her with accustomed sense and steadiness.Imogen cou
ld not be left alone, that was evident; and it was equallyevident that she herself was the person who must stay with her. Elsiecould not be spared from her baby, and Geoffrey, beside being moreespecially interested in the Youngs, would be far more amenable and lessrefractory than Clarence at a curtailment of his domestic privileges.So, pluckily and reasonably, she "buckled to" the work so plainly setfor her, established herself and her belongings in the spare chamber,gathered the reins of the household and the sick-room into her hands,and began upon what she knew might prove to be a long, hard bout ofpatience and vigilance, resolved to do her best each day as it came andlet the next day take care of itself, minding nothing, no fatigue orhomesickness or difficulty, if only Imogen could be properly cared forand get well.
After the first day or two matters fell into regular grooves. The attackproved a light one, as the doctor had hoped. Imogen was never actuallyin danger, but there was a good deal of weakness and depression,occasional wandering of mind, and always the low, underlying fever, noteasily detected save by the clinical thermometer. In her semi-deliriousmoments she would ramble about Bideford and the people there, or holdClover's hand tight, calling her "Isabel," and imploring her not to like"Mrs. Geoff" better than she liked her. It was the first glimpse thatClover had ever caught of this unhappy tinge of jealousy in Imogen'smind; it grieved her, but it also explained some things that had beenperplexing, and she grew very pitiful and tender over the poor girl,away from home among strangers, and so ill and desolate.
The most curious thing about it all was the extraordinary preferencewhich the patient showed for Clover above all her other nurses. IfEuphane came to sit beside her, or Elsie, or even Lionel, while Clovertook a rest, Imogen was manifestly uneasy and unhappy. She never _said_that she missed Clover, but lay watching the door with a strained,expectant look, which melted into relief as soon as Clover appeared.Then she would feebly move her fingers to lay hold of Clover's hand,and holding it fast, would fall asleep satisfied and content. It seemedas if the sense of comfort which Clover's appearance that first morninghad given continued when she was not quite herself, and influenced her.
"It's queer how much better she likes you than any of the rest of us,"Lionel said one day. Clover felt oddly pleased at this remark. It was anew experience to be preferred by Imogen Young, and she could not but begratified.
"Though very likely," she told herself, "she will stiffen up again whenshe gets well; so I must be prepared for it, and not mind when ithappens."
Meanwhile Imogen could not have been better cared for anywhere than shewas in the High Valley. Clover had a natural aptitude for nursing. Sheknew by instinct what a sick person would like and dislike, what wouldrefresh and what weary, what must be remembered and what avoided. Herinventive faculties also came into full play under the pressure of thelittle daily emergencies, when exactly the thing wanted was sure not tobe at hand. It was quite wonderful how she devised substitutes for allsorts of deficiencies. Elsie, amazed at her cleverness, declared herselfsure that if Dr. Hope were to say that a roc's egg was needful forImogen's recovery, Clover would reply, as a matter of course,"Certainly,--I will send it up directly," and thereupon proceed toconcoct one out of materials already in the house, which would answer aswell as the original article and do Imogen just as much good. She cookedthe nicest little sick-room messes, giving them variety by cunninglydevised flavors, and she originated cooling drinks out of sago andarrowroot and tamarinds and fruit juices and ice, which Imogen wouldtake when she refused everything else. Her lightness of touch andbright, equable calmness were unfailing. Dr. Hope said she would makethe fortune of any ordinary hospital, and that she was so evidently cutout for a nurse that it seemed a clear subversion of the plans ofProvidence that she should ever have married,--a speech for which thedoctor got little thanks from anybody, for Clover declared that shehated hospitals and sick folks, and never wanted to nurse anybody butthe people she loved best, and then only when she couldn't help herself;while Geoffrey treated the facetious physician to the blackest offrowns, and privately confided to Elsie that the doctor, good fellowthat he was, deserved a kicking, and he shouldn't mind being the one toadminister it.
By the end of a fortnight the fever was conquered, and then began theslow process of building up exhausted strength, and fanning the dimspark of life once again into a generous flame. This is apt to be themost trying part of an illness to those who nurse; the excitement ofanxiety and danger being past, the space between convalescence andcomplete recovery seems very wide, and hard to bridge over. Clover foundit so. Imogen's strength came back slowly; all her old vigor anddecision seemed lost; she was listless and despondent, and needed to becoaxed and encouraged and cheered as much as does an ailing child.
She did not "stiffen," however, as Clover had feared she might do; onthe contrary, her dependence upon her favorite nurse seemed to increase,and on the days when she was most languid and hopeless she clung most toher. There was a wistful look in her eyes as they followed Clover in hercomings and goings, and a new, tender tone in her voice when she spoketo her; but she said little, and after she was able to sit up just layback in her chair and gazed at the mountains in a dreamy fashion forhours together.
"This will never do," Lionel declared. "We must hearten her up somehow,"which he proceeded to do, after the blundering fashion of the ordinaryman, by a series of thrilling anecdotes about cattle and their vagaries,refractory cows who turned upon their herders and "horned" them, andwild steers who chased mounted men, overtook and gored them; how Felipewas stampeded and Pepe just escaped with his life. The result of this"heartening," process was that Imogen, in her weak state, conceived ahorror of ranch work, and passed the hours of his absence in a subduedagony of apprehension concerning him. He was very surprised and contritewhen scolded by Clover.
"What shall I talk to her about, then?" he demanded ruefully. "I can'tbear to see her sit so dull and silent. Poor Moggy! and cattle are theonly subjects of conversation that we have up here."
"Talk about yourself and herself and the funny things that happened whenyou were little, and pet her all you can; but pray don't allude tohorned animals of any kind. She's so quiet only because she is weak.Presently we shall see her brighten."
And so they did. With the first breath of autumn, full of cool sparkleand exhilaration, Imogen began to rally. Color stole back to her lips,vigor to her movements; each day she could do a little and a littlemore. Her first coming out to dinner was treated as a grand event. Shewas placed in a cushioned chair and served like a queen. Lionel was inraptures at seeing her in her old place, at the head of the table,"better than new," as he asserted; and certainly Imogen had never in herlife been so pretty. They had cut her long hair during the illnessbecause it was falling out so fast; the short rings round her face werevery becoming, the sunburn of the summer had worn off and her complexionwas delicately fair. Clover had dressed her in a loose jacket ofpale-pink flannel which Elsie had fitted and made for her; it wastrimmed with soft frills of lace, and knots of ribbon, and Geoff hadbrought up a half-opened tea rose which exactly matched it.
"I shall carry you home with me when I go," she told Imogen as shehelped her undress. "You must come down and make us a good long visit. Ican't and won't have you left alone up here, to keep the house and sitfor hours every day imagining that Lionel is being gored by wild bulls."
"When you go?" repeated Imogen, in a dismayed tone; "but yes, of courseyou must go--what was I thinking of?"
"Not while you need me," said Clover, soothingly. "But you are nearlywell now, and will soon be able to do everything for yourself."
"I am absolutely silly," said Imogen, with her eyes full of tears. "Whatextraordinary things fevers are! I declare, I am as bad as any child. Itis absurd, but the mere idea of having to give you up makes me quitecold and miserable."
"But you won't have to give me up; we are going to be neighbors still,and see each other every day. And you won't be ill again, you know. Youare acclimated now, Dr. Hope says."
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p; "Yes--I hope so; I am sure I hope so. And yet, do you know, I almostthink I would go through the fever all over again for the sake of havingyou take care of me!"
"Why, my dear child, what a thing to say! It's the greatest compliment Iever had in my life, but yet--"
"It's no compliment at all. I should never think of paying youcompliments. I couldn't."
"That is sad for me. Compliments are nice things, I think."
Imogen suddenly knelt down and put her arms on Clover's lap as she satby the window.
"I want to tell you something," she said in a broken voice. "I was sounjust when I came over,--so rude and unkind in my thoughts. You willhardly believe it, but I didn't like you!"
"I can believe it without any particular difficulty. Everybody can'tlike me, you know."
"Everybody ought to. You are simply the best, dearest, truest person Iever knew. Oh, I can't half say what you are, but I know! You haveheaped coals of fire on my head. Perhaps that's the reason my hair hasfallen off so," with a mirthless laugh. "I used to feel them burn andburn, on those nights when I lay all scorching up with fever, and yousat beside me so cool and sweet and patient. And there is more still. Iwas jealous because I fancied that Isabel liked you better than she didme. Did you ever suspect that?"
"Never till you were ill. Some little things that you muttered when youwere not quite yourself put the idea into my head."
"I can't think why I was so idiotic about it. Of course she liked youbest,--who wouldn't? How horrid it was in me to feel so! I used to tryhard not to, but it was of no use; I kept on all the same."
"But you're not jealous now, I hope?"
"No, indeed," shaking her head. "The feeling seems all burnt out of me.If I am ever jealous again it will be just the other way, for fear youwill care for her and not at all for me."
"I do believe you are making me a declaration of attachment!" criedClover, amazed beyond expression at this outburst, but inexpressiblypleased. The stiff, reserved Imogen seemed transformed. Her face glowedwith emotion, her words came in a torrent. She was altogether differentfrom her usual self.
"Attachment! If I were not attached to you I should be the mostungrateful wretch going. Here you have stayed away from home all theseweeks, and worked like a servant making me all those lovelylemon-squashes and things, and letting your own affairs go to wrack andruin, and you never seemed to remember that you _had_ any affairs, orthat there was such a thing as getting tired,--never seemed to rememberanything except to take care of me. You are an angel--there is nobodylike you. I don't believe any one else in the world would have done whatyou did for a stranger who had no claim upon you."
"That is absurd," said Clover, frightened at the probable effect of allthis excitement on her patient, and trying to treat the matter lightly."You exaggerate things dreadfully. We all have a claim on each other,especially here in the Valley where there are so few of us. If I hadbeen ill you would have turned to and helped to nurse me as I did you, Iam sure."
"I shouldn't have known how."
"You would have learned how just as I did. Emergencies are wonderfulteachers. Now, dear Imogen, you _must_ get to bed. If you exciteyourself like this you will have a bad night and be put back."
"Oh, I'll sleep. I promise you that I will sleep if only you will let mesay just one more thing. I won't go on any more about the things youhave done, though it's all true,--and I don't exaggerate in the least,for all that you say I do; but never mind that, only please tell me thatyou forgive me. I can't rest till you say that."
"For what,--for not liking me at first; for being jealous of Isabel?Both were natural enough, I think. Isabel was your dearest friend; and Iwas a new-comer, an interloper. I never meant to come between you, I amsure; but I daresay that I seemed to do so, and I can understand it alleasily. There is no question of forgiving between us, dear, only offorgetting. We are friends now, and we will both love Isabel; and I willlove you if you will let me, and you shall love me."
"How good you are!" exclaimed Imogen, as Clover bent over for agood-night kiss. She put her arms round Clover's neck and held her tightfor a moment.
"Yes, indeed," she sighed. "I don't deserve it after my bad behavior,but I shall be only too glad if I may be your friend. I don't believeany other girl in the world has two so good as you and Isabel."
"Don't lie awake to think over our perfections," said Clover, as shewithdrew with the candle. "Go to sleep, and remember that you are comingdown to the Hut with me for a visit, whenever I go."
Dr. Hope, however, negatived this suggestion decidedly. He was anautocrat with his sick people, and no one dared dispute his decisions.
"What your young woman needs is to get away from the Valley for a whileinto lower air; and what you need is to have her go, and forget that youhave been nursing her," he told Clover. "There is a look of tensionabout you both which is not the correct thing. She'll improve muchfaster at St. Helen's than here, and besides, I want her under my eyefor a while. Mary shall send up an invitation to-morrow, and mind thatyou make her accept it."
So the next day came the most cordial of notes from Mrs. Hope, askingImogen to spend a fortnight with her.
"Dr. Hope wishes to consider you his patient a little longer," shewrote, "and says the lower level will do you good; and I want you asmuch as he does for other reasons. St. Helen's is rather empty just now,in this betwixt-and-between season, and a visitor will be a realGod-send to me. I am so afraid that you will be disobliging, and say'No,' that I have made the doctor put it in the form of a prescription;and please tell Clover that we count upon her to see that you begin totake the remedy without delay."
And sure enough, on the doctor's prescription paper, with the regularappeal to Jupiter which heads all prescriptions, a formula was enclosedsetting forth with due professional precision that Miss Imogen Young wasto be put in a carryall, "well shaken" on the way down, and taken infourteen daily doses in the town of St. Helen's. "Immediate."
"How very good of them!" said Imogen. "Everybody is so wonderfully goodto me! I think America must be the kindest country in the world!"
She made no difficulty about accepting the invitation, and resignedherself to the will of her friends with a docility that was astonishingto everybody except Clover, who was in the secret of her new-bornresolves. They packed her things at once, and Lionel drove her down toSt. Helen's the very day after the reception of Mrs. Hope's note. Imogenparted from the sisters with a warm embrace, but she clung longest toClover.
"You will let me come for a night or two when I return, before I settleagain at home, won't you?" she said. "I shall be half-starved to seeyou, and a mile is a goodish bit to get over when you're not strong."
"Why, of course," said Clover, delighted. "We shall count on it, andLion has promised to stay with us all the time you are away."
"I do think that girl has experienced a change of heart," remarkedElsie, as they turned to go in-doors. "She seems really fond of you, andalmost fond of me. It is no wonder, I am sure, so far as you areconcerned, after all you have done for her. I never supposed she couldlook so pretty or come so near being agreeable as she does now.Evidently mountain-fever is what the English emigrant of the higherclasses needs to thaw him out and attune him to American ways. It's apity they can't all be inoculated with it on landing.
"Now, Clovy,--my dear, sweet old Clovy,--what fun it is to have you athome again!" she went on, giving her sister a rapturous embrace. "Iwouldn't mention it so long as you had to be away, but I have missed youhorribly. 'There's no luck about the house' when you are not in it. Wehave all been out of sorts,--Geoff quite down in the mouth, littleGeoff not at all contented with me as a mother; even Euphane has worn along face and exhibited a tendency to revert to the Isle of Man, whichshe never showed so long as you were to the fore. As for me, I have feltlike a person with one lung, or half a head,--all broken up, and unlikemyself. Oh, dear! how good it is to get you back, and be able to consultyou and look at you! Come upstairs at once, and unpack your things, andw
e will play that you have never been away, and that the last month isnothing but a disagreeable dream from which we have waked up."
"It _is_ delightful to get back," admitted Clover; "still the month hashad its nice side, too. Imogen is so sweet and grateful anddemonstrative that it would astonish you. She is like a different girl.I really think she has grown to love me."
"I should say that nothing was more probable. But don't let's talk ofImogen now. I want you all to myself."
The day had an ending as happy as unexpected. This was the letter thatLionel Young brought back that evening from Johnnie at Burnet:--
DEAREST SISTERS,--What do you think has happened? Something as enchanting as it is surprising! I wrote you about Dorry's having the grippe; but I would not tell you what a serious affair it was, because you were all so anxious and occupied about Miss Young that I did not like to add to your worries more than I could help. He was pretty ill for nearly a week; and though on the mend now, he is much weakened and run down, and papa, I can see, considers him still in a poor way. There is no chance of his being able to go back to the works for a couple of months yet, and we were casting about as to the best way of giving him a change of air, when, last night, came a note from Mr. Dayton to say that he has to take a business run to Salt Lake, with a couple of his directors, and there are two places in car 47 at our service if any of us still care to make the trip to Colorado, late as it is. We had to answer at once, and we took only ten minutes to make up our minds. Dorry and I are to start for Chicago to-morrow, and will be with you on Thursday if all goes well,--and for a good long visit, as the company have given Dorry a two months' vacation. We shall come back like common folks at our own charges, which is an unusual extravagance for the Carr family; but papa says sickness is a valid reason for spending money, while mere pleasure isn't. He thinks the journey will be the very thing for Dorry. It has all come so suddenly that I am quite bewildered in my mind. I don't at all like going away and leaving papa alone; but he is quite decided about it, and there is just the bare chance that Katy may run out for a week or two, so I am going to put my scruples in my pocket, and take the good the gods provide, prepared to be very happy. How perfectly charming it will be to see you all! Somehow I never pined for you and the valley so much as I have of late. It was really an awful blow when the August plan came to nothing, but Fate is making amends. Thursday! only think of it! You will just have time to put towels in our rooms and fill the pitchers before we are there. I speak for the west corner one in the guest cabin, which I had last year. Our dear love to you all.
Your affectionate JOHNNIE.
P.S. Please tell Mr. Young how happy we are that his sister is recovering.
"This is too delicious!" said Elsie, when she had finished reading thisletter. "Dorry, who never has been here, and John, and for October, whenwe so rarely have anybody! I think it is a sort of 'reward of merit' foryou, Clover, for taking such good care of Imogen Young."
"It's a most delightful one if it is. I half wish now that we hadn'tasked Lion to stay while his sister is gone. He's a dear good fellow,but it would be nicer to have the others quite to ourselves, don't youthink so?"
"Clover dear," said Elsie, looking very wise and significant, "did itnever occur to you that there might be a little something like asentiment or tenderness between John and Lionel? Are you sure that shewould be so thoroughly pleased if we sent him off and kept her toourselves?"
"Certainly not. I never thought of such a thing."
"You never _do_ think of such things. I am much sharper about them thanyou are, and I have observed a tendency on the part of Miss John tosend messages to that young man in her letters, and always inpostscripts. Mark that, _postscripts_! There is something verysuspicious in postscripts, and he invariably blushes immensely when Ideliver them."
"You are a great deal too sharp," responded Clover, laughing. "You seethrough millstones that don't exist. It would be very nice if it wereso, but it isn't. I don't believe a word about your postscripts andblushes; you've imagined it all."
"Some people are born stupid in these directions," retorted Elsie. "I'llbet you Phillida's back-hair against the first tooth that Geoffy losesthat I am right."
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