Cherry Ames Boxed Set 13-16

by Helen Wells

  Then Merrill Albee followed his mother in, and Cherry was struck by the change in the man. For one thing, the subdued way he followed his mother in showed that Mrs. Albee was now in command of the situation. Merrill looked drawn and chastened, as if he had done a great deal of soul searching. Merrill must know his loan fiasco was out in the open now.

  The three Albees hesitated. In these first instances of confrontation, Dr. Hope and Cherry hung back. Richard stared at Mrs. Albee, then at Merrill, back to Mrs. Albee, as if they were strangers. His mother said, wanting but hesitating to move toward him:

  “Oh, Richard, I’m so happy to see you!”

  “I’m happy to see you, too,” he said politely. His face cleared. “Mother, you can’t imagine how I’ve missed you. Are you all right?”

  He swung himself up on his crutches and rapidly went over to embrace her. He forced a smile for his brother.

  “I’ve thought a lot about you, too, Merrill.”

  Merrill nodded, and avoided meeting Richard’s gaze. He muttered something about “Mother ought to sit down.” Cherry came forward then, to greet the Albees and introduce Dr. Hope. Richard pulled up a chair for his mother. They all sat down, uneasily.

  It was Dr. Hope who did most of the talking. Mrs. Albee’s eyes never left Richard’s face; she was clearly appalled at what her son had suffered. Dr. Hope reassured her, while Merrill listened but never offered a word. Merrill’s mouth was tightly closed and his angular figure stiff as a ramrod.

  Dr. Hope turned to him, not genial for once. “Well, sir, how do you think your brother looks?”

  “Not bad, except for the leg, and that’s mending. If you hospital people think I’m responsible for Richard’s wandering off—”

  “You’re entirely blameless, eh?” Dr. Hope challenged him. “You’re not your brother’s keeper, is that it?”

  Cherry noticed Richard start to sweat. He could still be upset by Merrill.

  “We’re all our brothers’ keepers,” Mrs. Albee said. “We have to be.”

  “I suppose that’s true, Mother,” said Merrill, “but Richard has some responsibility, too, for his own actions. He isn’t a child. If you’re thinking of the loan—”

  Cherry felt Richard’s eyes upon her, silently asking her for support.

  Dr. Hope said dryly, “I wasn’t thinking of the loan. But since it’s on your mind, let’s talk about it.”

  Merrill shifted in his chair, nettled. “If you insist. It’s all quite simple. Richard signed for the loan, and he alone is responsible for it. Perhaps I do have some—ah—moral obligation to help him out—this is an awful mess we’ve all gotten ourselves into. But I refuse to be blamed for Richard’s erratic actions, wandering off like a tramp—disgracing us—”

  Richard shook his head in denial.

  Dr. Hope was about to speak when Olivia Albee said firmly, “You agreed with me, Merrill, that you are morally responsible, in large part, for what has happened to Richard. Don’t forget that.”

  “Oh, I’ll help him, all right. But you can’t expect me, as head of the firm for many years, to—”

  “I do expect you to help Richard repay,” said Mrs. Albee.

  “Very well. I don’t deny my arrangement—ah—voting myself bonuses—was wrong. A mistake on my part.” Merrill’s self-righteousness was wavering.

  “Mr. Albee, wasn’t the loan affair a mistake, too?” Dr. Hope asked. “Can you tell us why you didn’t sign the note along with Richard as you promised?”

  Richard looked immeasurably anxious. Merrill’s plain face tightened.

  “I did intend to be a cosigner with Richard. It just happened that I was delayed in New York that day on business, and the firm couldn’t wait for funds. That’s the truth.”

  Dr. Hope nodded, giving him the benefit of the doubt. “And once Richard had assumed the responsibility—?”

  “Then I thought ‘Why not leave it that way? It’s fair enough. I’ve put in many years of work here at the plant while Richard remained in school. And he comes in as a full partner! Now let him contribute something more, too.’”

  Merrill admitted that when Richard went away, it seemed like a stroke of luck for himself. He had always daydreamed of having sole control of the business, and now was his chance. He found and patched together Richard’s good-bye note, quieting his conscience with it. Richard could take care of himself.

  “And now that you see your brother in the hospital, do you still feel that way, Mr. Albee?” Merrill uncomfortably pressed his lips together. “See here, Mr. Albee, as a practitioner I can assure you that your brother has really been ill. Now, no illness, no handicap, is a disgrace. But as your mother said, we all need one another’s help. None of us lives alone, Mr. Albee. None of us gets sick alone, nor gets well alone.”

  “I’ll—I’ll help Richard. I realize I’ve gotten myself into an awful mess. You may not believe it, any of you, but I have been trying to straighten things out since Richard left. Do you think it’s pleasant to have such a situation on my conscience?”

  Richard said almost shyly, “It sounds as if you’ve been straightening out your thinking.”

  For the first time the two brothers looked full at each other.

  “If you mean remorse,” Merrill said, “yes. You’ve been on my mind. On my conscience. Way back, too. Maybe I—We never got along as well as we should have, and I—It wasn’t your fault, Richard.”

  “Mr. Albee,” Dr. Hope said quietly, “why don’t we all forget old wrongs and old resentments? For Richard’s peace of mind, and for your own.”

  The room was very still. “I—I’d like to, Doctor. I’ve been unhappy for years about these feelings. You may have the right answer.” Merrill turned again to his brother sitting on the bed. “Maybe you were right, too, to study for so long. Maybe your being a first-rate chemist is the best thing for the business.”

  It was an enormous admission. Richard said, “It’s all right. Forget it.” Mrs. Albee reached over and touched Merrill’s thin arm. He looked away, shamed.

  “It’s a relief to have all this out in the open, finally,” Merrill said.

  There was an awkward pause. Richard asked, “How’s Susan?”

  “She’s fine, thanks. She knows some of our—my mess.” Merrill turned to Cherry with an odd half-smile. “You talked to her, too, didn’t you? You know, at first I resented your visit but I don’t now. Your visit forced me to look at the unvarnished truth. The way I’d been excusing myself for years. I’ve had a bad conscience, Richard, about using so much of your loan money for Susan’s ring. And Susan wouldn’t even accept it. That’s an irony.”

  Mrs. Albee said, “I think Susan will care more for you, now that you won’t stress material things so much, and now that you’ll be kinder to Richard.”

  They talked a little about how to repay the loan. Merrill, very much shaken, promised to make restitution personally, out of his salary as partner, for the sums he had taken from the business.

  “But if I’m to be able to do that, Richard, I’ll need your cooperation in running the business.”

  “I’ll be on the job Monday morning,” Richard said. He looked toward Dr. Hope for permission.

  Dr. Hope nodded and smiled. “You’ll be there.”

  Cherry accompanied Richard as he walked through the ward saying good-bye to Tommy, who was allowed out of his wheelchair now, and to the fracture patient who had triumphantly discarded his braces, and to the spine patient for whose birthday two volunteers were bringing in a huge cake with candles, for the entire ward. Good-bye to Mrs. Peters, the head nurse, to Ruth, to George, and a special good-bye and thanks to Dr. Watson beaming in the doorway.

  Dr. Hope and Cherry went downstairs with the Albees to the hospital’s main floor. A taxi was waiting to take them to the airport.

  “How can we thank you?” said Mrs. Albee.

  Merrill knew how: he wrote out a check for Hilton Hospital to pay for Richard’s care, and promised to send a second check for a contr
ibution as soon as he could afford it.

  Richard held on tight to Cherry’s hand. “Lean closer.” He whispered in her ear, “You’re the best nurse and best friend any patient could ask for.”

  Then he got into the taxi with his family. Dr. Hope and Cherry stood a moment longer on the steps, in the cool wind.

  “Patient cured,” Dr. Hope said. “Case closed.”

  “I’m so glad.” Cherry and Dr. Hope looked at each other with mutual admiration. Cherry said, “I certainly learned a great deal by working with you, Dr. Hope. I never before nursed a case like Richard’s.”

  “You did all right.” Dr. Hope smiled at her and added, “That’s the understatement of the year. You’re an excellent nurse. Let’s go in. Your other patients and Mrs. Peters will be glad to have you back on the ward full time.”

  In case you missed Cherry Ames, Boarding School Nurse …

  CHAPTER I

  Lisette

  CHERRY WISHED THE TRAIN WOULD GO FASTER. SHE was still out of breath from running for it. She pressed her cheek against the window to admire the green fields and fertile farms through which the local train poked along. Cherry’s mother, who knew the headmistress of the Jamestown School for Girls from their own school days, had warned her that the school was deep in the country. Fortunately, it was not too far from Hilton, Illinois, which meant that she would be able to spend all school holiday vacations at home.

  As the boarding school nurse, she would have full charge of the school infirmary. It would be fun to work with young people and a refreshing change from her last job—an unexpectedly thrilling assignment as nurse to a country doctor—something new, something different. If there was anything Cherry enjoyed, it was meeting new people. She was glad that she was a nurse because nursing, in its many branches, provided an Open sesame to new and exciting experiences—and because more importantly, a nurse can help to alleviate human suffering. She remembered what her twin brother Charlie had said jokingly when he put her on this train in Hilton:

  “Don’t set this boarding school on its ear. Wherever you go, twin, you make things happen, but you bring doggoned good nursing too.”

  It gave Cherry a good, warm feeling to know that her pilot brother, and her parents, too, were proud of her. They had made that clear during this past week, when they’d had such a satisfying family reunion, in their big, old-fashioned house. The week’s rest had left Cherry’s cheeks glowing rose-red and her black eyes sparkling. Even her jet-black curls shone with extra good health. She felt fully ready to tackle her new job.

  She stood up, slim and tall, to stretch for a moment and noticed again the girl at the other end of the car. Only about fourteen years old, and small for her age, she was absorbed in a thick volume which lay open on her knees. The girl leafed through several pages, then as if finding what she sought, read eagerly—leafed, read, searched again. She read, Cherry thought idly, as if that book held all the answers to all her questions—whatever they were.

  When the train pulled into Jamestown, Cherry noticed that the girl was getting off, too. They were the only two passengers who alighted. Jamestown consisted of a crossroads and a few stores, sheltered by magnificent oak trees. Only a few farmers, driving in for supplies, were outdoors in the heat of the afternoon. Cherry looked around for a station wagon or other car from the school, half expecting to be met. Hadn’t Mrs. Harrison received her telegram? Perhaps she should telephone the school. Then Cherry spied a sedan with a sign in its windshield: Taxi.

  But the young girl from the train was already making arrangements with the taxi driver. Cherry heard her say:

  “—to the school, the Jamestown School.”

  Cherry approached them uncertainly. This was probably the one and only taxi in town, and in the country people often shared rides.

  “I beg your pardon, but I’m going to the school, too, and since there’s no school car here, I wonder—”

  “Please share the taxi with me,” the girl said at once and pleasantly.

  So they stepped in and settled back. The driver started off through leafy tunnels formed by the arching oaks. Cherry and the young girl did not speak for several minutes. It was one of those ripe, golden afternoons when it feels as if summer will last forever, yet the school term would begin within a few days. Cherry was arriving early in order to get the infirmary in good shape, but what was a student doing here so early, she wondered.

  Cherry glanced at the girl who had drawn away into her own corner of the seat. She was slight and pale, with a cloud of dark hair falling onto her shoulders.

  “Since we’re both going to the school,” Cherry offered, “we might introduce ourselves. I’m Cherry Ames.”

  The girl smiled. “I’m Lisette Gauthier.” She was rather shy. “Is this your first time at the school?”

  “Yes, it is. Yours, too?”

  “Yes, Miss Ames.” The girl glanced away, hugging the big book to her. She seemed to be struggling with shyness, then overcame it in a rush. “I came to the school a week early, you know.” She did not say why. “I went into Riverton to do some errands, and to visit the library. It’s bigger than the school library.”

  “What an eager student!” Cherry exclaimed. “Studying before the term even begins.”

  “Oh—no—I mean, yes. It isn’t exactly studying.” Lisette did not reveal what the thick book was. After that, the girl sat quiet and guarded in her corner.

  The taxi drove on past gardens where the scent of flowers floated on the air. Cherry remarked on the delicious fragrance, and—to choose another safe conversational subject—she mentioned her contact with Mrs. Harrison, the headmistress and owner of the Jamestown School.

  “I’ve never met Mrs. Harrison but her letters have been awfully nice,” Cherry said. “I’m looking forward to meeting her this afternoon.”

  Lisette turned and this time her smile had real warmth. “Everyone loves Mrs. Harrison. You will, too, I know you will. She’s—well, you’ll see! Can you imagine anyone else who’d let me come to the chateau a week early, and who’d even—”

  The girl broke off, as if she had been about to say too much. Cherry filled the embarrassed silence with a cheerful remark about the fun of starting a new term, especially at a new school. Lisette looked at her with gratitude. Her eyes were ebony black and seemed to fill her ivory face. A funny little sprite, Cherry thought, first too shy to talk, then talking almost too much …

  All of a sudden the taxi slowed, and the driver, grumbling, coasted the car to the side of the road and hopped out for a look at the motor. He poked and examined and then went to peer in the gas tank.

  “But the gas gauge reads better’n half full,” he muttered.

  Cherry glanced at it. So it did.

  “Gauge isn’t workin’,” the driver said. “Gas tank is bone dry. I’ll have to go for gas. A mile’s walk in this broiling sun to the nearest gas station!”

  He stamped off, carrying a metal container. The two girls were left alone together in the back seat of the sedan. Trees shaded them, but still it was going to be a long, warm wait.

  “What wouldn’t I give for a soda right now!” Cherry said. “Chocolate for you?”

  “Chocolate for me,” Lisette agreed. Her eyes danced like Cherry’s own. She glanced at Cherry with obvious curiosity, although it was apparent that she would never intrude with questions. Cherry tried to ease things for her.

  “You think I’m one of the new teachers, don’t you?”

  “Well, you look a little bit too young and too—”

  “Too what?” Cherry laughed.

  Lisette swallowed. “Too young and fun-loving.”

  “To tell you the truth, I’m to be the school nurse.”

  “Oh! That’s nice. I’ve always sort of wanted to be a nurse.”

  “Lots of girls want to,” Cherry replied. “A lot of them really do it, too.”

  “It’s a sympathetic profession,” Lisette said thoughtfully. “I always think of a nurse as a friend.”r />
  “Well, I hope you and I will be friends.”

  Lisette responded with such a glowing face that Cherry could not help but respond, too.

  “I don’t think,” Lisette said very seriously, “that a few years’ difference in our ages is important.” She pretended to be busy adjusting the car window. “Do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Then Lisette was telling her, as fast as the words would tumble out, about her scholarship and her family and her wonderful luck in coming to the Jamestown School.

  “All my life I’ve wanted to come here! And father always wanted me to attend boarding school. A really good one! I couldn’t tell this to everybody, Miss Ames, but honestly, I’d never be here if it had been left up to my poor papa.” She said papa, French fashion. “It’s the greatest luck that I’ve a scholarship. Imagine. A year’s scholarship and my room in the dormitory, everything, a regular guest!”

  “It is wonderful,” Cherry said. “I didn’t know boarding schools gave scholarships.”

  “They don’t very often. It’s just that Mrs. Harrison is so generous. Not that she can afford—I mean—”

  Lisette broke off short again.

  Cherry’s curiosity was aroused. How did the girl know what Mrs. Harrison could afford if she was a newcomer to the school? Then, too, what was she doing here a week early? Was it because of some family problem?

  “What about your papa?” Cherry asked, since it was obvious that Lisette was trying to change the subject. “What a cunning way to say it!”

  “We spoke French a good deal at home in St. Louis,” Lisette said. “Especially Papa. He spoke beautiful French, although he was American-born. And he was a delightful host, and he knew dozens of funny stories, but that’s about all Papa could do. He just wasn’t a practical man. He tried hard to earn a living, but—My heavens, I am telling you a lot, Miss Ames.”